#not that there's anything wrong with still enjoying it but I MYSELF feel a bit icky. it's been tainted. my enjoyment of it isn't the same | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Not Now (PT. 2)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]

(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)

Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]

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"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything.

After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.

"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.

Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.

"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace.

Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"

"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.

"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.

"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."

Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."

"And?"

"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."

"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"

"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?

"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.

"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."

"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"

"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.

"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"

Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.

"Why?"

"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.

"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.

"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."

"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."

Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.

"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."

You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.

"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.

"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.

"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.

All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.

When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.

Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.

You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.

Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much.

Dick, in that way, was too much.

You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with.

Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…

You hope he's okay, at least.

Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.

You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely.

It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.

You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…

Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick.

Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.

The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.

Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.

Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.

Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.

As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?

Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.

Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all.

So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.

Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.

Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on.

Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.

Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else.

Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…

Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.

Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.

The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.

Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway.

Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.

Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.

Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.

Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.

Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.

You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.

The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.

A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.

You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.

You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.

Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.

Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.

… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance.

Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.

You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.

Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.

His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.

Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.

“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.

“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.

“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before.

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.

You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.

“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.

He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far.

While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.

Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.

Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.

Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.

Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time.

A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him.

You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.

You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment.

Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.

Point is, you have clearly changed.

Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.

Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.

It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least.

Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.

Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.

He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.

“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?

Why now? What was going on?

“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.

So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.

“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.

He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”

“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.

Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?

Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?

Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?

Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?

You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.

Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.

“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”

So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely.

Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.

Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore.

Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.

However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.

“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest.

Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.

“I’m here to see you.”

‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.”

Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.

“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart.

“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.

“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.

Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.

“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.

“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”

Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.

There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.

You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?

From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.

The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.

“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.

“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”

“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”

“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”

“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”

“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.

“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”

“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.

“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't.

If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now.

“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well.

So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask.

“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.

He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.

“... What do you-”

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.

“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process.

“...”

You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?

You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.

“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”

Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.

He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.

He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.

“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.

Something he doesn't find.

He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”

“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax.

“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”

“I know where it is.”

“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.

“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?”

“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”

Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface.

“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.

“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”

“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”

“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”

“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.

Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?

“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.

“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”

“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.

“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.

“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?”

“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.

However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.

“We both know how that turned out.”

If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.

“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.

“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”

“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does.

“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop.

“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.

“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer.

“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”

“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.

Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.

Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.

“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.

You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.

“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.

“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.

“Just. Stop.”

“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why.

Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset.

After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother?

You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.

… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain.

Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.

This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.

“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.

Is he seriously asking you that?

“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”

“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.

“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.

“... What?”

“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?

He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”

“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.

“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.

“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-

Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.

“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”

“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.

“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.

You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”

An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.

He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.

“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now, “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.

“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”

“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.

The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”

The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out.

So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.

“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”

“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.

The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?

“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”

Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.

Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”

“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.

“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.

“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.

“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”

“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?

“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”

“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”

“Y/n, please, just calm down-”

“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”

“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.

Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”

“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”

“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”

“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained.

“Well, I’m just saying-”

“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.

Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”

“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”

“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.

“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”

“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.

Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.

“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”

“Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?

It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.

“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”

“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”

“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”

For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.

“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”

“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”

“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”

“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”

“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”

“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”

“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”

“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.

“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”

“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.

“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”

“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”

“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”

“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.

Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.

If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.

“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”

“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”

“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”

“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”

“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”

“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”

“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”

“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”

“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”

“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”

“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”

“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”

“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”

“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.

You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.

“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”

“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”

“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”

“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”

“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”

“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”

“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”

Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.

“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it. Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing.

He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.

So, he falls silent. You both do.

Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.

“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.

Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.

“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”

You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”

Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.

He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.

… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.

Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.

[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]

Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.

[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]

… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.

With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.

Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.

Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.

Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.

The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.

Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.

With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.

For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.

—----------

Dick had no such luxury.

The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.

All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.

Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.

“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.

“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.

“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.

Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”

“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.

“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”

Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”

“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.

“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”

“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”

“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment.

Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.

“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.

Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.

… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.

“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.

That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”

He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there.

“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”

“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.

Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!

“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”

Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”

“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.

“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.

Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”

“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”

Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.

A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.

“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.

“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x gn reader #it's finally here in full!#total wc is around 37.5k words #so the 1st part is around 16.5K~ words #and this part is around 20K-21k~ words respectfully #ngl i lost a bit more of my sanity writing this chapter #i was so naive when i called chapter 2 my longest post...#not series

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rafelandia · 7 months ago

Text

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers.

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times.

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife.

Good. She was sleeping.

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely.

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door.

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so.

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.”

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list.

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister.

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.”

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this?

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands.

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his.

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face.

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now.

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did.

With two babies.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe x reader #dad rafe #dad!rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe x fem!reader #rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey x reader

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godmadeaterribleerror · 6 months ago

Text

Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer.

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone.

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.”

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!”

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down.

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest. “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room.

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them.

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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ghostedgwen · 2 months ago

Text

but I knew you | j.potter [part four]

note : THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ENTHUSIASM towards this fic! I can't believe I got over 400+ notes on the first three parts. This is wild! I am so grateful for u guys, pls enjoy the final part<33 p.s : my requests are open again if any of u are interested in sending anything

warning : more angst but some cute moment as well, some anxiety on your part but jsut briefly mentioned, James and his relentless firting, I swear this part is kinder, happy ending - sort of

James gets into an accident during a Quidditch game and develop amnesia - he doesn't remember the past 2 and a half years, and he currently has the mentality of fourth-year James. This doesn't bode well for you that your boyfriend of 2 years now currently thinks he's still in love with Lily.

└——————— - [ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 - 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚗 ]. +

You cannot believe you are here again.

Watching over his sleeping figure in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey fuss over him.

You all decided to keep quiet about McLaggen for now, so you lot were being chastised by the matron over the "prank gone wrong" incident that landed James on her lap again.

You could feel the anger bubble in you but kept it at bay as James' well-being came first, obviously.

"Now, I have matters to discuss with Dumbledore so you four can look after Mr.Potter here." He tells you before leaving abruptly.

None of you dared to question her and only watched her leave. Once she was gone, you turn to the other three boys and they kept quiet, seeing the scary expression you had on. Peter looked like he was about to piss himself.

"____," Remus cautiously called out your name. "Are you okay? McLaggen said some vile things back there, we hope you know that we won't let him get away with this."

Sirius huffs. "The bloody fuck we won't, fucker will deserve what's comin' for him when James wakes up."

You nod slowly at them. "Could I - ask for some privacy, with James?" You ask them, watching them all get up and nod at you with sympathetic smiles. "I just, wanna think of what to say once he wakes up and I was hoping to have him all to myself for a bit when he comes about."

"No worries, we understand." Remus tells you and he pats Sirius on their way out as the other boy looked about ready to set the castle on fire. "We'll see you back at the common room."

You give them all the best smile you could muster while they piled out and it was just you left all alone to your thoughts. Your face was immediately encased in the palm of your hands as you allow your frustrations to settle in.

Having held onto it well enough to get James settled into the infirmary first, you could feel the tears build up. It's already bad enough your boyfriend couldn't remember you, but then he gets injured again - and you feel like everything is your fault.

You missed your James even more.

He would know how to hold you, what to say and just what to give. He always knew you so well that you couldn't even be mad at him for even a minute, he was always quick to melt your resolve and fix anything that is even remotely broken.

James was perfect - so much so that you almost thought the universe had created him exactly for you. All the time he spent chasing after another girl long forgotten when he treated you so well, and not once made you doubt his loyalty -

Lily was a story of a very distant past, but that past has come back to haunt you.

But despite all this, you still love him. It did not waver one bit, despite how much hurt you got from the Quidditch accident, despite the struggle of going through your memories by going around the castle - you still wanted James Potter.

With a resigned sigh, you look up at him again to see his sleeping figure and wondered just how it all went so badly wrong.

You look around the Great Hall pointedly ignoring the way people were whispering as you walked by, it has been like that ever since James Potter very oublicly announced that you werer the new subject of his latest fascination.

At least, that's what you thought.

There was no way a boy who pined for a girl for 2 whole years would just up and change his mind upon meeting you. He just probably got bored by the same familiar faces in the castle and barely met anyone outside.

You knew you were fresh, and even the other boys in your year wanted their slimy hands on you. You paid them all no mind and headed for the table cluttered with students clad in red and gold.

Almost full from the attention, you still managed to serve yourself Dinner and pointedly ignored how even the Professors barely concealed their interest in you. You barely made it into Gryffindor, almost getting sorted into Slytherin.

You wondered if Potter's demeanour would be completely different if that was the case.

You didn't get to think too deeply on it when he made his presence known, pushing aside the 2nd year boy that sat next to you in order to provide space for himself, which he eagerly took with a charming grin your way.

"Oh hey there, ____."

You ignore him. He did not seem fazed one bit as you learned that he's quite used to the treatment, how he's not dying from shame is beyond you. You continue eating until you could barely swallow anything, too uncomfortable from the way he watched you so shamelessly.

"Bloody fuck, what do you want, Potty?"

He lets out an exasperated laugh. "We're on nickname basis, eh?"

"Don't talk to me like we're close, like I like you." you tell him off but he brushed off your harsh words as if they never even left your lips.

"Alright, I'll take it though it's too out of my style -now what to call you. . ." he trailed off, then his lips stretched into a devilish grin. "Pretty girl."

You almost choked in your own spit. "What?"

"Pretty girl, that's your nickname."

"You are unbelievable."

"Thank you." he winks, taking a sip from his goblet.

"I'm going to be completely raw and honest, and I need you to answer me without any of your jokes and witty remarks," you tell him, biting the insides of your cheeks. "Please tell me it's real."

James frowned, he can see the tears building up in your eyes and it felt like a punch to his gut to see that expression on your face. He was too used to see you either scowling at him or laughing at either his fuck-ups or his jokes, though you admit to hating his audacity, you always laughed when he earned it.

This is new.

This is a new face that he wasn't sure how to process, so he asked - "What do you mean?"

You let a brief moment of silence pass as you gather all your strength to say your thoughts out loud. Nights spent questioning everything, wondering just what and why, you couldn't just come up with the answers yourself, so here you are.

"I need you to tell me it's real. All those months you chased after me, please tell me it wasn't just some game to you to get you out of your rejection streak from Evans - Merlin, please swear to me this is real so I can stop being scared."

His frown deepened, if that was even possible, and he took careful steps towards you. hesitantly grabbing your hand so he can hold it and the action urged you to meet his eyes. Although confusion pooled in them, there was also so much sincerity.

"This is real," James assures you. "This is very real and what I feel for you is not some game. You are not a prize to be won, ____. What are you scared of?"

You let out a humorless laugh as the tears finally fall. "Merlin, I think - I know - I am falling in love with you, and I needed you to tell me it's real because I needed to know it was safe to fall."

James' look of confusion slowly faded away and his pursed lips broke into a wide grin, his hold on your hand tightening as he felt the excitement bubble inside him.

"You don't have to be afraid, pretty girl," James kissed your hand without a second thought. "I will gladly catch you if you fall."

"James, you're not listening," you tell him with a roll of your eyes and he abruptly stopped whatever he was doing to focus solely on you. "Did you hear a word I said?"

James grinned his charming grin, neglecting to answer you because you both knew what he was gonna say anyway.

You groan. "I said I can't go with you to Hogsmeade, you snogging my face off every chance you get distracted me enough from my Potions essay that is due in 2 days."

James' expression soured at that. "You said it yourself, pretty girl," he smirks with a cross of his arms. "It's 2 whole days away."

"Uh huh, and my parchment is empty, not even a single drop of ink," you roll your eyes again. "Give my lips a break so my hands can get to work - don't even make a dirty joke or I will throw you out."

James let out a bark of laughter. "You can't throw me out of my own dorm room?"

"The bloody hell I will!"

As the memories replayed in your head, you can't help but sink deeper and deeper into your thoughts. The memories always seemed so sweet and innocent, but now had bitter aftertaste from your current predicament.

They did always say to treasure the present, for how quickly it can turn into a distant past - but you are only 17, you didn't think the past would be that far behind you so quickly.

James would apologize profusely for even bringing up Lily again, he knew how much it scared you to let yourself fall for him. How much you struggled with the vulnerability of being in love, and yet all of that came back to hit you.

You can already tell how dramatic he'd get. Maybe even get on his knees as a grand gesture.

James. . .what would he even say -

"Galleon for your thoughts, pretty girl?"

Your head immediately snap to the direction of the voice and you felt your tears finally fall once your eyes met his warm hazel hues. Without even asking any questions, you could already tell that he was back. Your James, he's here.

"Jamey?" You ask, hesitantly approaching him, and he flashed you his famous Potter grin.

"In the flesh," he managed to joke out with a wink. "Mind telling me why my head feels like it got assaulted by bludgers?"

You laughed, throwing your body on him to hug him. The implications could be minded later, you just wanted to celebrate the fact that he's back, you got him back and all your inhibitions melted away.

"You have a lot to make up for," you sniffled, face buried into his neck.

He hugged you back, his hold on you tight and secure as you allowed more tears to escape your eyes. Your James is finally back, and nothing else mattered for now.

Sirius throws his head back laughing, almost spilling the content of his goblet. Remus scooting away to avoid getting any of it to spill on him, making a face at Sirius who failed to see his disgusted expression.

"Fucking hell! We ought to thank McLaggen instead for hitting you," Sirius continues laughing, obviously having had too much Firewhiskey. "Thanks to his cheap ass attack, we got you back, mate!"

James laughed along though his eyes rolled halfheartedly. "Fuckin' twat still has to pay for trying it on with ____."

Remus clears his throat. "He's been hiding from us ever since, quite well, might I add."

Peter laughs from his seat on the floor, lap full of empty snack wrappers. "Least he's got his own head on straight, won't work though."

Sirius finally stopped cackling like a maniac and turned to you who sat on James' lap. "What are you thinkin', ____? Exploding zits? Broken ribs? A broken nose?"

You shake your head with a chuckle. "I am gonna sit this one out. I am just happy James is back."

James smiled at you, making Sirius let out sounds of disgust and Remus with a joking 'boo!' at the cute display of affection. Then Peter perked up from his seat as if he jsut remembered something very important.

"I reckon I've been told McLaggen is deathly afraid of spiders."

the end.

masterlist

Tags - @sweetstrawberrianne @d1lf-loverrr @hisparentsgallerryy @jaeviii @simp-for-fiction @froggiedragon @paankhaleyaaar @cumuluscranium @acad3miawhore @notmeduhh @cupcakesnviolets @msmarklee1213 @suyaaachin ! Thank you so much for following this fic 🌸

#james potter #james potter x reader #marauders x reader #james potter imagine #marauder imagine

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trashytracktales · 6 months ago

Note

ong yes!! lando gotta loveeeee doggy and taking her against a wall!! But imagine her on top for the first time and not knowing how to ride him and him teaching him and telling her what to do! im asking this to santa !!

kill me now!!

Oh, Christmas treat | LN ⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── Why ask Santa when I'm literally right here... enjoy 💋

⤿ We're yapping about this ask.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── It's a quiet winter night, and Lando notices that his girlfriend seems a bit distracted. After some playful coaxing, she admits a secret desire to try something new. With his gentle guidance, they explore new paths together, each step bringing them closer.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, light teasing, themes of vulnerability, unprotected sex, reader's first time on top, bit of swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 24, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I know this wasn’t a request per se, but I wanted to share this one-shot with you since it was already mostly ready to go. I’ve been dealing with some health issues recently and couldn't get myself to get anything done, so thank you for your patience. The rest of the requests are still on their (admittedly slow) way, but I promise they’re coming 🤞🏻 Wishing a very Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates, and who knows, I might have another little treat up my sleeve 👀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE DAY HAD been nothing out of the ordinary, but that was exactly what made it special.

Lando had woken up late, groggy but grinning satisfied when he caught her padding around the kitchen in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweater, humming along to Christmas songs. She loves the holiday season, because she likes it when he's home, and Lando doesn't have to be anywhere but their own apartment. That's exactly why she can't get upset when he streams with Max for hours in the night, and ends up sleeping in the next day. The simple fact that he's there is enough.

Maybe she conditioned herself to accept that, but then she sees his sleepy face and thinks she'd accept worse in order to share her mornings with him.

It's Christmas Eve, so they’d decided to bake cookies, mostly because she insisted it was a winter tradition, and Lando, ever the competitive spirit, took it as a challenge to see whose decorations would turn out better. As expected, chaos followed. By the time the cookies were ready, the kitchen looked like it had been through a snowstorm of flour and sugar. Lando had a streak of frosting on his cheek, and she had somehow ended up with sprinkles in her hair. In reality, they spent more time laughing and teasing each other than actually baking, but that was always the way it went with them.

Now, their cookies sit patiently on the counter, forgotten as the two of them relax on the couch in the living room. The Christmas tree lights glow warmly in the corner, and a cheesy holiday movie plays on the TV. They’re snuggled under a thick blanket, her legs curled up and tucked into his side. Lando’s arm drapes around her shoulders, his fingers playing lazily with her hair. It’s peaceful and comforting, but somewhere in the quiet, she feels a sudden pull in her chest.

In all the time they've been together, she never took the lead — not willingly, at least — feeling more than happy to surrender. She's been thinking about it for a long time, but she's never had the courage to do it. She doesn't feel intimidated or inhibited by her boyfriend, but rather by how it could all go wrong for both of them if she, somehow, ends up doing something she’s not supposed to.

Suddenly, her arms tighten around him, her nose nuzzling into his shirt. There’s a weight in her heart, not sadness exactly, but something tender, something raw. It makes her extra clingy, but she doesn’t say anything. She just holds him closer, hoping he won’t notice.

But Lando always notices.

His fingers pause in her hair, and his brows furrow slightly as he glances down at her. “You good, baby?” he asks, his voice soft and curious.

She hums nonchalantly, her face still buried in his chest.

“You sure?” Lando insists, his tone teasing but gentle.

The girl freezes for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but before she can decide, he tilts her chin up with his fingers, making her look at him.

“Come on, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he asks, his eyes scanning hers.

Her cheeks heat under his gaze, and she sighs. “I don’t know. You just… feel extra nice to hold tonight,” she says quietly.

Lando blinks, then his grin widens, teasing again. “Didn’t know I had levels of cuddliness.”

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles, hiding her face against his chest again.

His smile softens, and he wraps his arms around her fully, pulling her tighter against him. “Hey, you don’t wanna talk to me?”

She shakes her head and, at that, Lando stops pushing, knowing that whatever it is, she’ll come to him. Eventually. When she’s ready.

A few hours later, their movie marathon ends in a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV instantly muted by the credits rolling on the screen. Lando stretches, groaning softly as he shifts from the couch.

She gathers the blanket, folding it neatly before turning to him with a small smile.

“Bedtime?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reluctant to leave the warmth of the evening behind.

“Bedtime,” he agrees, though he watches her carefully as she heads toward the bedroom.

She moves through her usual routine, brushing her teeth and slipping into one of his hoodies, paired with sleep shorts. As she pulls back the covers and sits on the edge of the bed, he hears it again — the same quiet sigh that makes his chest tighten.

Lando leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, frowning in her direction. “Alright, that’s the second time tonight,” he says, his tone light but edged with curiosity. “Should I worry?”

“What?” she replies quickly, too quickly, as she gets ready to tuck herself under the duvet. “No, baby. It’s nothing.”

“Right,” says Lando, stepping closer, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to get it out of you another way.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Lando…”

Before she can finish, he lunges, playfully grabbing her waist and threatening to tickle her sides. She squeals, trying to wiggle away, but his grip on her is firm.

“Last chance, I'm serious,” he warns, his laughter bubbling up as she giggles uncontrollably.

“Okay, fine, stop it!” she pleads, breathless, her face flushed.

Lando stops, pulling back just enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulls her onto his lap. His arms wrap loosely around her waist, and he tilts his head, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Now,” he says, happy that he managed to break her wall, “What’s going on?”

She hesitates, her cheeks turning pink as she avoids his gaze. Instead, her fingers find his curls at the back of his head, twisting them gently as she takes a deep breath. “You know, it’s not even a big deal. I’ve been thinking about something, but I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Mhm,” he nods, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. It’s deep, slow, almost as if he’s trying to reassure her without words. When he pulls back, their foreheads touch, and he whispers, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She knows. Still, that doesn’t make it any easier. The heat rushes in her cheeks as she finally meets his eyes. “Look, I like when you’re on top. I mean, I really like it,” she says, stumbling slightly over her words. “But I was thinking, maybe, I’d like to, you know...”

Her voice trails off, and she looks away again, clearly embarrassed.

Lando blinks, letting her words sink in. His mouth opens slightly, but no sound comes out as a flush creeps up his neck. Then, a grin spreads across his face, equal parts flustered and excited.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. “You want to ride me, baby?”

She nods quickly, still twisting his curls nervously. “But I’ve never done it before, and I’m not sure I’d be good at it. It's just that—”

He exhales a chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “Slow down,” he murmurs against her skin, his tone so tender that it makes her stomach flip. “You don’t have to worry about being good at it, baby. If you wat to try it, I can guide you, and we’ll see what works for us as we go.”

Her cheeks flush as she processes his reassurance, the tender way he’s looking at her making her feel bold and seen. And listened to.

She smiles, shifting on his lap, searching for some friction, and the slight brush of her core against his growing hardness has her letting out a soft gasp. Lando notices immediately, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead, he lets her take the lead at her own pace, on her own terms.

She shifts again, this time deliberately pressing herself against him, and the soft sound she makes has Lando’s self-control slipping. “I suppose we can try now?” he murmurs, his voice thick with heat.

She doesn’t reply — at least not with words. Instead, she grabs his hoodie, pulling it over her head in one swift motion, leaving her in nothing but her shorts. Lando’s breath catches as he takes her in, his hands immediately coming up to palm her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. He's seen her naked so many times before, but somehow, every time she gets rid of her clothes she uncovers something new.

“So beautiful,” he mutters, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, and the heat between them builds until she pushes him gently onto the mattress.

Lando goes willingly, a grin tugging at his lips as she leans over him to kiss him again. His hands move to her hips, holding her firmly as she presses herself against him, grinding slowly. He groans into her mouth, his hands sliding lower to grip her ass, then he spreads her slightly, pushing her down against his growing length, making both of them gasp at the feeling.

Her hands trail down his chest, and she tugs at his shirt. “Off,” she breathes, and he obeys, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. For a moment, she just looks at him, her hands tracing the defined lines of his chest.

The tension between them builds rapidly, their breaths mingling as they press closer. It doesn’t take long before she’s tugging at the waistband of her shorts, her nerves creeping back in as she pushes them down. Lando sits up slightly, watching her with darkened eyes, and when she glances at him nervously, he reaches out to stroke her thigh gently.

“You’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice full of sincerity.

Her nerves ease at his words, and when he pushes his joggers down, freeing himself, her anticipation drowns out her doubts.

He sits up fully, pulling her closer until she’s straddling him again. “Alright, love,” he murmurs, his hands steadying her hips. “Go slow, yeah? Just sit on me first. Take your time.”

She nods, biting her lip as she lines herself up with him. Slowly, she sinks down, feeling the stretch as he fills her inch by sweet inch. Her breath hitches, and Lando groans, his hands gripping her hips tighter.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps. “You always feel so good.”

She pauses once he’s fully inside, her hands braced on his chest as she adjusts to the feeling of being so full of him. Sensing her nervousness, Lando rubs soothing circles on her hips, letting her take her time.

When she finally starts to move, lifting herself up slightly before sinking back down, a soft, shaky moan escapes her lips. Lando watches her with a mix of awe and hunger, his hands guiding her gently.

“Just like that, baby,” he encourages her, “Easy. You’re doing so well.”

Slowly but surely, she manages to build a rhythm, her movements tentative at first. But as the pleasure starts invading her senses, she becomes bolder. She opens up more, craving all of him at once. Her hands slide back to grip his thighs for support as she leans back slightly, the new angle sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

The taste of power it's rather interesting in this position, and she can’t afford to be shy anymore. Not when his cock feels so good inside her, and not when she decides how to take him.

“Fuck, Lando,” she breathes, her head tilting back.

She begins to move more rapidly on top of him, her hips following a predetermined path that she wasn't even aware of before. Lando watches her in amazement, feeling every pulse of pleasure every time she comes back for more, her walls hugging his cock so tightly that it leaves him breathless.

He groans, his hands sliding up to her waist to steady her. “That’s it, baby. Keep going. God, you’re going to make me cum so fast like this.”

The sight of her riding him, her body moving with such confidence now, nearly breaks him. Somehow, he resists the urge to thrust up into her, letting her stay in control, but his grip tightens as his restraint begins to fray.

He hears a silent cry, getting ready for every scenario in his mind, while his eyes study her frame by frame.

She whimpers, her movements becoming more erratic as the pleasure overwhelms her. “Lan,” she gasps, her voice shaky. “I can’t go—too much.”

He sits up slightly, pulling her towards him and pressing his forehead to hers. “Of course you can, baby,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the fire coursing through him. “I’m here. Just a little more, yeah? You’re doing so good.”

She feels his cock twitching inside her as she shakes her head weakly, “Lando, please…” her hands desperately clutch his shoulders, and that's when he understands what she needs from him.

Lando's hands land on her waist again, gripping at her firmly, and he starts to guide her harder on his cock while thrusting up into her simultaneously, meeting her halfway. The sudden change in rhythm makes her cry out, her nails digging into his skin.

“Yes,” she moans, her head dropping onto his shoulder as he drives her higher. “It’s so good, fuck. I’m—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

So she does, her body trembling as the pleasure crests and crashes over her. He follows seconds later, his movements growing erratic before he stills inside her, holding her tightly against him as they both ride out their highs, breathing each other’s air. They stay tangled together, bodies still pressed close as the intensity of their orgasms fades away.

Lando brushes a strand of her hair away from her damp forehead, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You okay there?” he asks, his voice a gentle rasp.

She nods against him, her body still warm and buzzing. “Mhm, ‘m okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

He grins, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “You did so well, baby. Made me proud.”

She lets out a breathless laugh, her head dropping back onto his shoulder. “Cheers,” she trails off, playfully groaning. “But that was so much work. My fucking thighs are on fire.”

Lando laughs, the sound deep and rich. “Oh, you poor thing,” he teases, stroking her back soothingly.

She swats at his chest, unable to hold back her grin. “I’m serious! It’s a full-body workout being on top.”

He hums thoughtfully, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her skin. “So what you’re saying is…” he starts, tilting his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I get to be in charge again next time?”

She pulls back to look at him, her cheeks flushing, but there’s a playful sparkle in her eyes. “You won't hear me complaining,” she quips, biting her lip to suppress her laughter.

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

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None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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bookishdreamer28 · 11 months ago

Text

This man and his damn sexy voice was all I could think about, so hope you'll enjoy this one <33

"Where were you all this time?!"Sylus appeared in front of you in an instant once you walked in home, looking extremely worried. And to be honest, you couldn't blame him. His life was full of dangerous things and before he met you, it was easy to deal with them. No fear to eat him alive every day, no endless text messages just to make sure that you were ok, no sleepless nights just to make sure that you will always lay right in his arms.

But even though he knew how dangerous things were, a selfish side of him made him see just how calm and perfect everything seemed when you were around.

"Hello to you too"

"Y/N I swear-"

"Stop stressing over nothing. Everything's fine. I'm here now as you can see." You laughed lightly and gently touched the side of his face, caressing it. Sylus exhaled a long breath at the warmth he suddenly felt on his cheek, and his heart. You were unharmed. You are ok. No need to worry.

He turned his head away from your touch and you felt a bit taken aback.

"Love I-"

"You know, at least a message would have made me a little less paranoid" There he was. The grumpy but caring man you so adoringly love.

"Next time I'll consider doing this first"

"Next time?!! Oh no there won't be next time. If it necessary I'll glue myself on your side just to make sure that no one will harm you." He followed closely behind you as you walked in your room. You sat on the bed and started taking off your shoes but Sylus kneeled right in front of you to do it himself.

"Let me take care of you sweetie" Ah this nickname. Never getting old when you hear it coming from him. His voice has been making you feel things since day 1.

You stared at his face as you noticed that he still had his eyebrows furrowed. Like he was still pissed about something.

"Sylus, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that- you're driving me crazy" He was face to face with you now, an angry look on his face. His thump brushed your lower lip gently and you felt the heat rising.

"You're driving me so crazy, that there are times were I hate it" he leaned in to tease your lips with a small peck "and other's I want to do nothing more but kiss you for hours" and that's what he did next. He collided his lips with yours, all the tension running through your bodies wild.

"These lips of yours" he said in between the kisses "will always have me on my knees for a taste".

His hands went slowly down to your waist, as he picked you up in his arms so he can sit down on the bed and let you rest on his lap. The kisses did not stop for hours but once you eventually stopped, Sylus made sure to take care of you just like he promised. You ate your dinner, prepared the bed and once you laid your head on his chest and his arms engulfed you in a sweet hug, he felt happy. Happy cause you are here. With him.

"What's in your mind sweet girl?" His voice soft. His hand rubbed soft circles on your arm and you looked up at him.

"Nothing I just...I love you. So much" you nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck. If only you could see his face right now. These three words leaving your mouth always made him weak. So damn weak, that the thought of having someone like you loving him, felt like a dream to him. A dream that he afraid that it was going to stop amd then wake up back to the harsh reality. But he wouldn't let anyone or anything take you from him. The reason of his happiness.

He stared down at you, with so much love in his eyes as he replied:

"I love you" His softly grabbed your chin, bringing you closer to his face so he can seal his lips with yours into another feverishly kiss.

2K notes · View notes

prettygirl-gabi · 3 months ago

Text

Title: You Always Have

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader, Reader x OC

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Toxic behavior, manipulation, cheating, swearing, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive content, sex

Word count: 5k+

Summary: What Paige wants Paige gets… even when she’s in the wrong…

🏷️: @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr

It had been two weeks since I walked out on Paige, and honestly, I hadn’t looked back. It was hard to leave her, considering everything we had been through, but I knew I deserved better.

It was the right thing to do. Paige cheated on me—not once, but multiple times—and no amount of apologies or “I was drunk” excuses could fix that. I couldn’t keep playing the fool. Not anymore.

I was at a party, trying to enjoy myself, keeping my mind off everything, when KK found me. She slipped through the crowd, wearing that familiar apologetic look she always did when it came to Paige’s mess. She nudged me, an awkward smile on her face.

“Yo, she really misses you,” KK said, scratching the back of her neck like she was nervous. “Paige’s been asking about you non-stop. You should talk to her.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or roll my eyes at her. After everything, Paige was the last person I wanted to hear from. But I couldn’t deny that her words hit me like a sharp pang in my chest. Did Paige really miss me? Or was this just another act in her endless manipulation games?

“Why does she need you to come talk to me?” I asked, arms crossed over my chest, raising an eyebrow at KK.

“Look, I’m just trying to help,” she said. “She’s a wreck without you. I can’t make her stop calling me about you.”

I let out a dry laugh. “She had her chance. She blew it.”

KK winced but didn’t push further. “Okay, but think about it. Paige is at her place. She’s just… trying to make things right.”

I took a deep breath, feeling a familiar warmth spread through my chest despite myself. I hated that I still cared, even after everything. But I wasn’t weak anymore. I wasn’t the girl who put up with Paige’s bullshit. I was stronger now.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to sound neutral, but deep down, I knew I was already leaning toward going.

By the time I showed up at Paige’s apartment, I had convinced myself that it would be a short visit. I was just going to hear her out, let her apologize, and then leave. No strings attached. I wasn’t going to fall for her games again.

But when she opened the door, I felt my heart skip a beat. Paige looked… different. She had this look in her eyes, a mix of vulnerability and regret. And god, she was still beautiful. My pulse quickened.

“Can I come in?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Paige stepped aside, letting me walk past her into the apartment. The air between us was thick with tension, and I could feel the ghosts of our past lingering in every corner of the room.

The couch, where we used to cuddle for hours. The kitchen, where we shared countless meals. The bedroom��God, don’t even get me started.

“I know I fucked up,” Paige started, her voice hoarse. “I’ve been a terrible person to you. But you were my everything, and I messed that up. Please, just give me a chance.”

I didn’t say anything at first. I crossed my arms and looked at her, feeling the weight of everything that had happened between us. There was a time when I would’ve forgiven her without question, but I wasn’t that girl anymore.

“You know you don’t just get to walk back into my life like nothing happened,” I said, my voice cold. “You cheated on me. You broke my trust. Do you even know how much that hurts?”

She took a step toward me, her eyes pleading. “I do. I do, and I regret it every damn day. I’m sorry, more than you’ll ever understand. I just want us back. I don’t want to lose you.”

I bit my lip, trying to fight the emotions that were bubbling to the surface. But I couldn’t ignore the pull, the magnetic force that always seemed to draw me back to her. Even now, despite the pain, I still wanted her.

And maybe that was why, when she leaned in slowly, her lips brushing against mine in a gentle kiss, I didn’t pull away. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both testing the waters again. But the more I kissed her, the harder it became to hold onto the walls I’d spent the last two weeks building.

Before I knew it, the kiss deepened, and for a moment, I forgot everything. I forgot about the hurt. I forgot about the lies. All I could focus on was Paige and the feeling of her lips on mine, the warmth of her body pressing into mine.

But just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, my chest heaving. Paige’s eyes were wide, filled with confusion and hope.

“I’m sorry, Paige. I can’t do this,” I whispered, taking a step back. “This isn’t what I need. Not anymore.”

I turned to leave, walking quickly toward the door, my heart pounding in my chest. Paige didn’t try to stop me. She just stood there, staring after me in silence.

Five months later, I had moved on. I was dating someone else now—someone who treated me right, someone who respected me and my boundaries. But the shadow of Paige still hung over me, especially when I ran into her one night at a party. She was standing across the room with her friends, laughing and looking like she had everything under control.

I didn’t expect to feel anything when I saw her. But when her eyes met mine, something dark flickered in them. Her gaze didn’t leave mine as I made my way to the bar with my girlfriend, and I knew something was coming.

The next day, my phone blew up with messages from my girlfriend, who had seen the pictures. The ones where it looked like I was with Paige, laughing and standing way too close to each other.

“You told me you were done with her,” my girlfriend’s voice was shaky when she called me. “Why does it look like you’re cheating on me with Paige?”

“Wait, what?” My heart raced as I tried to process what she was saying. “No, it wasn’t like that. It was a setup. Paige—”

“Don’t even,” she interrupted, her voice tinged with hurt. “I can’t believe this. I thought you were over her.”

“I am over her!” I insisted, panicked now. “It was a mistake. You have to believe me.”

But she didn’t. She hung up on me, and I was left standing there, heartbroken, as everything seemed to fall apart.

I didn’t know where else to go, so I found myself outside Paige’s apartment again, my fists clenched as I knocked on the door.

When she opened it, there was no hesitation. I barged inside, anger fueling every step.

“You have no fucking right to ruin my life again, Paige!” I shouted, pacing the room. “You know damn well that was a setup, and you’re the one who orchestrated it!”

Paige didn’t back down. She stood there, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I’ve missed you, babe. I know you missed me too. That’s why you’re here.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t set this up!” I yelled, turning to face her. “You manipulated everything. You made sure I’d be caught in the middle of all this.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think,” she shot back, her eyes darkening with a mix of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, not anymore. You’re mine, and you always will be.”

My chest tightened. “I’m not yours anymore, Paige. I’m done with you.”

But before I could leave, she grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me back toward her. “Don’t walk away from me,” she said, her voice lower now, dangerous. “You know you want this. You always have.”

I tried to pull away, but she was stronger than me. She shoved me against the wall, her lips crashing into mine with an intensity that I couldn’t deny. My body betrayed me as I responded, the heat between us igniting once again. But I wasn’t going to let her win. Not like this.

I broke the kiss, shoving her away. “Fuck you, Paige. I’m not doing this again,” I spat, turning to leave.

But as I opened the door, I heard her voice one last time.

“I’d rather fuck you than anyone else, you know that,” Paige said, her words laced with smirking confidence.

I froze as I felt the heat of Paige’s body close in on me again. The distance between us, so fleeting moments ago, seemed to vanish in an instant.

My back hit the wall with a soft thud, and I gasped, breath caught in my throat as her hand found its way to my jaw. The sensation of her fingers against my skin was electric, sending a jolt straight to my chest, my heart pounding harder with every passing second.

“Don’t,” I tried again, the words almost a whisper, but they were powerless. My chest ached, a dull throb where my emotions collided with all the years of history we shared.

Paige’s smirk never faltered, but her eyes… her eyes held a fire I couldn’t quite read—something dangerous, something raw. She stepped even closer, bringing her body into full contact with mine. I could feel the heat radiating off of her, the undeniable pull between us, no matter how hard I fought it.

“You can’t walk away from me that easily,” she said, voice low and dangerous, her words slipping into the space between us like a threat.

I tried to pull away, but the wall behind me offered no escape. Paige’s free hand came up to rest on my hip, holding me in place. My breath hitched as her lips hovered just inches from mine. I could feel the tremor in her hands as they gripped me, as if she too was struggling to keep control of whatever was unfolding between us.

“You really think you can just throw us away like that?” Paige continued, her voice now a soft growl, a breath against my lips that made my pulse spike. She leaned in just enough for me to feel her proximity, her lips a mere whisper away from mine. “You know you want this. You always have. I can see it in your eyes.”

I tried to stay calm, tried to summon some shred of resistance, but everything inside me screamed to give in. I was caught between the desire to push her away and the instinct to let go, to lose myself in her again.

I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Paige.”

But then, she pressed her body fully into mine, the weight of her presence suffocating me, her lips brushing against my ear as she spoke again.

“Then why are you still here?” she asked, her tone almost teasing, like she knew exactly what was happening—how my resolve was crumbling under the pressure of everything that had once been so familiar.

Before I could respond, her lips found mine once more, this time more insistent, more demanding. And I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her back. It was a fleeting moment of weakness, a slip, a crack in the armor I’d built around myself.

But as quickly as it started, I pulled away again, my hands pushing against her chest, creating the tiniest gap between us.

“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling with frustration and longing, my breath shallow. “This isn’t us anymore, Paige. This is just you trying to have control. And I won’t let you.”

Paige’s eyes darkened, a storm flickering behind them. She reached up and cupped my face, her thumb brushing over my bottom lip like she was memorizing the feeling of it.

“Then stop pretending you don’t want this, too,” she said, her voice thick with something dangerous. “You think you can just walk away from me? That easy? After everything we’ve been through?”

Her words hung in the air, an unspoken truth between us. I hated how they made my stomach flip, how they made my resolve waver. But I couldn’t let her win. Not this time.

“I’m not yours anymore, Paige,” I said, my voice steady now, the weight of my decision crashing down. “I can’t keep letting you drag me through this.”

I pushed her hand away from my jaw, and for a second, she just stared at me—like she couldn’t believe what I was saying, what I was doing.

“I’m done,” I told her, the words leaving my mouth with a finality I hadn’t thought possible.

I shoved past her, but as I reached the door, I felt the sudden press of her palm against the wall beside me, blocking my exit.

“You’re not done with me,” she said, her tone low and dangerous, her breath warm against the side of my neck as she leaned in, her chest pressing against my back.

“Cause, I’ll never be done with you.”

“Seriously Paige, Don’t.”

“Don’t what, baby?” she purred, her voice a husky whisper that sent my pulse into overdrive. “Don’t touch you? Don’t kiss you? Or don’t remind you how good we are together?”

I tried to turn my head away, again, but she cupped my face in her hands, holding me captive. Her thumbs brushed against my cheekbones, a deceptively gentle gesture that belied the fire in her eyes. “I hate me,” I said, the words barely audible.

“I know,” she stated, her voice low and intense. “But I know want me. More than I want to admit.”

And then her mouth was on mine, a searing brand that erased all thought, all resistance. It was a kiss of pure, unadulterated need, a desperate claiming that left me breathless and weak. I tried to fight it, to push her away, but her strength was undeniable, her will unyielding. And deep down, a part of me didn’t want to fight it at all.

Her fingers danced down my body, teasing and tormenting, until they found the hem of my shirt. With a swift tug, it was gone, tossed carelessly to the floor. My bra followed soon after, leaving my breasts bare and aching for her touch.

“Wow, bet she doesn’t get you this wet, like I do, does she?” Paige whispered against my lips, her fingers already found a way of working their magic between my legs.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent thought. My body was a symphony of sensation, every nerve ending screaming for release. A whimper escaped my lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“That’s right, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice thick with lust. “Taking my fingers so well. You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

Her words were like a whip, lashing against my skin, igniting a firestorm of desire. I bucked against her hand, desperate for more, my body betraying every ounce of resistance I had left.

“Come on, baby,” she urged, her fingers relentless. “Cum for me. Cum on my hands.”

I gasped for breath, my body trembling in the aftermath. Paige continued to stroke me until the last shudders subsided. Then, she pulled her hand away, her fingers slick with my juices.

“Good girl,” she murmured, licking her fingers clean.

Before I could protest, she tossed me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I yelped in surprise, my head spinning as she carried me down the hall. She kicked the bedroom door shut with her foot, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.

She dumped me unceremoniously onto the bed, her eyes never leaving mine. I scrambled to sit up, but she pinned me down with her hands, her body hovering over mine.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word,” she said, her voice low and dangerous.

“Fuck you,” I spat, trying to push her away.

But she didn’t budge. Instead, she leaned down and captured my lips in another searing kiss. Her tongue plunged into my mouth, and I found myself responding despite my best intentions.

Her hands roamed over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She attacked my neck, sucking and biting until I cried out. Then, she moved lower, her mouth latching onto my breasts, teasing my nipples until they were hard and aching.

I moaned, my body arching beneath her touch. She knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed. And I was powerless to resist.

She moved lower still, her tongue tracing a path down my stomach, lower and lower until she reached the apex of my thighs. I gasped as she began to eat me out, her tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony.

As if she was on a mission, and having me under her was the end game. And it was working more than i wanted to admit.

I cried out, my body convulsing as I came again and again. “Mmm shit, ma that’s the 3rd time, I’ve made you cum only from my fingers and mouth. Alone.”

All I could do was whimper out while nodding head. I had been under Paige for so long, I lost track of time, lost track of everything except the exquisite pleasure that consumed me.

Eventually, finally she pulled away, leaving me gasping for breath, my body slick with sweat. She hovered over me, her eyes dark and possessive.

“You’re mine,” she said, her voice low and husky. “End of the day. You’re mine. I know you and your body more than you know yourself.”

And I knew, in that moment, that she was right. I was hers. Completely and utterly. And I hated her for it. For knowing that she was right.

Without a second thought she hooked the purple strap to her body, its smooth surface gleaming under the dim light of the bedroom. I watched her, my breath catching in my throat as she positioned herself between my legs.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice a low growl.

I nodded, my eyes locked on hers.

She plunged the strap into me, and I cried out, my body arching against the bed. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming, but I found myself craving more.

She thrusted into me at full speed , her hips piston back and forth, driving deeper and deeper inside me. I moaned, my hands gripping the sheets tight enough to rip them.

At some point she used her strength and stamina to flip me over, face down into her satin sheets, testing my limits, exploring my desires.

"Yeah, takin' my dick, like a good lil' slut," she growled, her voice a husky rasp that vibrated through my very core. I didn’t tap out, not even when my legs were shaking and my body felt like jelly.

Each thrust of the strap sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain through my tight cunt, pushing me closer to the precipice of oblivion. My legs trembled, muscles screaming in protest, but yet I refused to yield. I wouldn't tap out. Not yet. Not while Paige held me captive in this exquisite torment.

Her words, laced with dominance and desire, fueled the fire within me. "Oh, I know she doesn't have you feeling this good," she purred, her breath hot against my ear.

"Bet she can't make you cry and fall apart at the same time." A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined the depths of pleasure she promised, the complete and utter surrender she demanded.

Paige's hand left the strap for a moment, and I whimpered in protest, desperate for the rhythm to continue. Instead, she delivered a sharp smack to my ass, the sting a delightful shock that jolted me back to the present.

"Don't you worry, baby," she whispered. "I’ve got you. Right where I want you."

The smacks continued, each one perfectly timed to coincide with the thrusts of the strap, creating a symphony of sensations that threatened to overwhelm me.

And then, she did something completely unexpected. I felt her reach for my phone, which lay discarded on the bed. A moment later, I heard the unmistakable sound of the camera app activating.

"Paige, what are you doing?" I managed to gasp, my voice strained.

"Just capturing the moment," she replied, her voice dripping with amusement. "For posterity."

I could feel the heat of her gaze on my back as she positioned the phone, framing the shot. I knew exactly what she was doing, the image she was creating: me, bent over her bed, completely at her mercy.

And then, she did something even more shocking. I felt the vibrations of the phone as she typed a message, and a moment later, I heard the unmistakable "whoosh" of it being sent.

"What did you do?" I demanded, my voice barely a whisper.

"Sent a little message to your now ex girlfriend," Paige purred. "Just letting her know who you really belong to."

"What did you say?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

Paige leaned closer, her lips brushing against my ear. "I just told her that you've always been mine," she whispered. "Even when you're not."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken desires. I knew that this was a line that couldn't be uncrossed, a point of no return. But as I lay there, pinned beneath her, I couldn't bring myself to care.

Paige resumed her relentless assault, her movements growing more frantic, more desperate. She was taking me apart, piece by piece, stripping away the layers of control and inhibition that I had so carefully constructed.

"That's it," she groaned, her voice thick with passion. "Almost there. Just a little bit more."

I could feel the pressure building inside me, a tightening coil of energy that threatened to explode. My body was trembling uncontrollably, every nerve ending on fire.

My body was a taut string, vibrating with every touch, every word, every movement. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the raw, primal energy that pulsed between us.

Paige continued her assault, her voice a constant stream of filth and praise. She told me how good I felt, how wet I was, how much she loved the way I writhed beneath her touch. Her words were like gasoline on a fire, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

I was teetering on the edge, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The world around me began to blur, the only reality the feel of Paige's hand on my ass, the pressure of the strap inside me, the sound of her voice in my ear.

"That's it, baby," she urged, sensing my impending release. "Let it go. Let it all go."

With a final, earth-shattering thrust, I shattered. My body convulsed, every muscle contracting in a spasm of pure, unadulterated pleasure. A strangled cry escaped my lips as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me, obliterating everything in its path.

I was vaguely aware of Paige slowing her movements, her grip on the strap relaxing as she allowed me to ride out the storm. My body trembled, my skin flushed, my mind blank. I was completely and utterly spent, a broken mess of pleasure and exhaustion.

As the aftershocks subsided, Paige gently withdrew the strap, leaving me feeling empty and vulnerable. She straddled my back, her fingers tracing slow, sensuous circles on my skin.

"You were so good, baby," she whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You took everything I gave you and more."

I moaned softly, burying my face in the satin sheets. I was too weak to speak, too drained to move. All I could do was bask in the afterglow of our encounter, the memory of her touch, her words, her power.

I melted into the soft sheets, the weight of my body sinking deeper as Paige’s hands worked their magic. Each touch seemed to ease the tension that had been building up for days, months even, and I felt the knots in my muscles begin to loosen under her skilled touch.

Her fingers slid over my skin, gentle yet firm, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of contentment.

“Relax, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice a soothing lullaby in the quiet room. “I’ve got you.”

I nodded weakly, my eyelids heavy, fighting the exhaustion that settled over me. There was something about her touch, something familiar and comforting, that made me forget the chaos, the hurt, the arguments.

It made me forget the reasons why I had walked away in the first place. In this moment, all that mattered was the way she made me feel—safe, cared for, even cherished.

But as my mind drifted in and out of clarity, the weight of the past slowly crept back in. The reality of who Paige was, who we were together, hovered like a dark cloud.

I shifted slightly, turning my face toward her, my breath slow but heavy. I could feel my chest rising and falling, but there was a growing heaviness in my heart. Something I couldn’t ignore.

“We’re bad for each other, you know?” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s hand stilled for a moment, but she didn’t pull away. Her thumb brushed over the back of my hand, as if it was the only way she knew how to respond to the weight of my words.

“I know,” she murmured quietly, her words heavy with understanding. “But that doesn’t mean I want to let go, baby.”

I sighed softly, pulling away just enough to meet her gaze. My heart ached with the familiar conflict, the toxic dance we’d been doing for so long. The way she made me feel wanted, cared for, but also how she always seemed to break me down in the process.

“You’re toxic, Paige,” I said, my voice barely above a breath. It felt like the words had been buried inside me for so long, waiting to be released, to be said out loud.

Paige’s lips parted, but she didn’t protest. She didn’t argue. She simply nodded, like she’d expected it.

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes softening with something unreadable. “But I’ll work on it. I promise. I don’t want to lose you.”

I closed my eyes, my chest tightening. I wanted to believe her, I really did. But every part of me screamed that it wasn’t enough. The past weighed too heavily between us, the broken promises, the betrayals. I wasn’t sure if I could ever really trust her again.

“You have to really work on it, Paige,” I said, my voice shaky with the vulnerability I hated showing her. “I can’t keep letting you hurt me.”

She didn’t say anything at first. She just pulled me closer, her lips brushing over the top of my head, her embrace tightening around me. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a promise, even if I wasn’t sure I could trust it yet.

“Shh,” Paige whispered, her voice a soft hum against my ear. “Just rest, baby. We’ll figure it out.”

I felt my body give in again, the exhaustion creeping back into my bones as she held me, her warmth wrapping around me like a blanket.

But the words still lingered in my mind. We’ll figure it out.

I spent the next few days in a quiet, reluctant haze, unsure of what to do with the mess of emotions I was feeling. I stayed away from Paige, avoiding her calls and texts, keeping my distance like I was trying to protect myself from getting hurt again.

It wasn’t easy.

I hated the silence between us, but I also couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that if I stayed, I’d fall into the same pattern again. We both needed time.

But after a week of avoiding her, I received a message that I couldn’t ignore.

“Please stop avoiding me. I thought we agreed to work on it… I want to work on it with you.”

I felt a lump form in my throat as I read her words. She wanted to try. She wanted to work on it. But was it too late? Could we fix what was broken between us?

I chewed on my lip, staring at the message as conflicting emotions flooded me. I was still angry, still hurt. But part of me missed her—the genuine parts of her, the ones I thought I could trust. I couldn’t deny the pull, the yearning to fix what we had.

Taking a deep breath, I responded, my fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before I typed back.

“I need time, Paige. I can’t keep letting myself get hurt, but I’m willing to try. But only if you are.”

The message was out before I could second-guess it, and I stared at the screen, feeling a strange sense of relief.

I wasn’t sure what to expect after sending that message. Part of me feared Paige would take my hesitation as rejection and pull away, but another part of me hoped—really hoped—she meant what she said about working on herself.

A week passed before I saw her again. I had buried myself in studying for finals, hoping that the stress of exams would distract me from the constant push and pull of my emotions. It worked, for the most part. But then, on a quiet afternoon in the Homer Babbidge Library, Paige found me.

I was sitting at one of the tables tucked in the corner, headphones in, my notes spread out in front of me. My brain was fried from cramming, and I had just leaned back in my chair to take a deep breath when I noticed her approaching.

She stood there for a moment, hands stuffed into the pockets of her UConn hoodie, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. But there was something softer in her eyes, something careful.

“Didn’t think you could hide from me forever, did you?” she teased, but her voice lacked the usual cockiness.

I sighed, closing my notebook. “I wasn’t hiding,” I lied.

Paige chuckled, pulling out the chair across from me without waiting for an invitation. “You were definitely hiding,” she countered. “But I’m not here to call you out. I wanted to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to get to the point.

She hesitated, drumming her fingers against the table before speaking. “We have a home game tomorrow. You should come.”

I looked away, unsure.

Paige leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Look, I know you’re still unsure about me. About us. And I get it. But I meant what I said—I’m trying. I want to show you, not just tell you. So, come to the game. Let me take you to dinner after. No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”

Her words hit something deep inside me. I searched her face, looking for any sign of manipulation, any hint of the Paige I used to fight with. But all I saw was sincerity.

“…Okay,” I finally said, the word coming out quieter than I intended.

Paige’s smile was small but genuine. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

And so, the next night, I found myself sitting courtside, watching as Paige dominated the game. She played with a fire I hadn’t seen in a while, her focus sharper, her movements calculated. Every time she scored, her eyes found mine in the crowd, a silent message passing between us.

After the game, she met me outside the locker room, still in her jersey, her hair damp from sweat. “You came,” she said, a little breathless.

“I said I would,” I replied.

Paige grinned, then reached for my hand. She hesitated for a split second before intertwining our fingers. “Come on,” she said, squeezing lightly. “Dinner’s on me.”

Dinner that night was different than any we’d had before. It wasn’t tense or filled with unspoken words. We talked—really talked—about everything. Paige told me about therapy, how she had been taking it more seriously since that night we last spent together.

“I know I have a lot of shit to work through,” she admitted, stirring her drink absentmindedly. “But I don’t want to be the person who keeps hurting you. I want to be better, for myself. And for you.”

Her words made something inside me soften. Maybe, just maybe, she really meant it.

After that night, Paige made it a habit to pull me back into her world. She convinced me to come to more of her games, to join her at parties, to grab late-night food at Ted’s.

Some nights, she’d show up at my apartment, asking to stay over, and other nights, I found myself in her bed, falling asleep to the sound of her steady breathing.

It was slow, cautious, but it felt… right.

A month passed like this, both of us dancing on the edge of something more. Then one night, after another home game, Paige drove me back to my place.

We sat in the car for a moment, the engine still running, the air between us charged with something unspoken.

Paige shifted, turning to face me fully. “I don’t want to do this halfway anymore,” she said.

I frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she exhaled, running a hand through her hair, “I want you to be mine again. Officially. No more weird in-between, no more hesitation. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

I stared at her, my heart pounding. Part of me had been waiting for this moment, but another part of me was terrified.

She must have seen the uncertainty in my eyes because she reached for my hand, rubbing small circles into my palm.

“I know I hurt you,” she said softly. “And I know I can’t erase the past. But I meant what I said—I’m working on myself. And I want to keep working on this. On us.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Was I really ready to give us another shot?

But then I looked at Paige—really looked at her. The way she was looking at me, waiting, hoping. She had changed. Maybe not completely, maybe not perfectly, but enough for me to see that she was serious about this.

So, after a long pause, I squeezed her hand back.

“…Okay,” I whispered.

Paige’s face lit up with relief and something else—something warm.

“Yeah?” she asked, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah.”

And just like that, we started again. But this time, we were determined to do it right.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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holdinbacksecrets · 2 months ago

Text

love drunk voicemails from ex!seventeen

it’s been way too long since i’ve posted blurbs for svt >.< i hope you enjoy them! as always, thank you @un-love for sharing thoughts and helping me assign <3

seungcheol: “you used to be the easiest person to reach. for five years, i knew you’d answer my every call. now, i tell myself i was too young to understand the security of that and the luck, but i knew then. sometimes, after you answered, i wouldn’t say anything because if i stayed quiet long enough, i would hear my name. i loved the way you’d say it with a hint of annoyance, but it was annoyance through a smile. that’s the only kind i want around because it’s drenched in love. it was the only kind you knew. no one else does annoyance like you.”

jeonghan: “i’ve never seen you drunk, and i can’t sleep, so i ended up thinking about the times you were really honest—never-ending rambles that you didn’t have the awareness to cut off. it only happened when you were exhausted, but i loved it, and i decided that’s how you’d be drunk. i recorded a few of your rambles, and i play them sometimes. i’ll walk around seoul and listen to nothing else but you at 2am or 3am. my favorite one is from 6am when i picked you up from glamping for that bachelorette party. you were miserable, but we couldn’t go home until you saw the ducks at the pond. i didn’t know which pond, you forgot the name, so we kept driving until you were happy with one.”

joshua: “did you see me last weekend? i swear it was you. we were on the train, on opposite ends. i don’t think you looked my way once, and i convinced myself you saw me first but couldn’t handle seeing me again. i also tried to convince myself it wasn’t you, and it was working until you crossed your legs and i saw your ankle tattoo.”

jun: “do you still have picnics by han river? i’ve thought about going on a thursday night at eight, and i’ve wondered what i would do if i saw you. would you let me join you? what if i sat a few feet away? would u listen if i spoke without looking at you? talking towards the river with words meant for you… tell me this doesn’t feel right to you too.”

soonyoung: “where do you go when you miss me? is that conceded to ask? i always go to the mall when i miss you. it’s embarrassing, but i smell every perfume you’ve worn, at least the ones i can remember. i accidentally cried a little once. i think the employee noticed, so i bought a bottle because it felt wrong not to after subjecting the poor woman to my tears.”

wonwoo: “i know you’re dating. that fact rolled through the grapevine, and the final person let it slip like a senseless game of telephone, so i left the restaurant before my meal arrived and picked up something from a street vendor while i walked home. the walk home was miles. i couldn’t tell you how long it took. i kept stopping to catch my breath every time i thought about someone else’s hands on you. don’t date. what are we doing?”

jihoon: “we used to have a whole routine when i’d go on tour. it was so well thought out that i looked forward to missing you. i loved missing you. i loved having someone to miss, someone to come home to—an apartment warmed by your love.”

seokmin: “you called me on accident last night. it was so loud in the background. i knew you were out. i heard laughter and my eyes rolled back. then, you cursed and hung up, and i slumped over. call me again. laugh in my ear again. curse against my ear again.”

mingyu: “i still buy your grocery list. at least once a month i buy your favorite things, and i eat every last bit, but it’s all for the reminders. i stand in the kitchen to wash strawberries and cut them into halves and then quarters, and i reminisce the conversations we used to have. back then, i thought i’d hear your strawberry conversations for the rest of my life. i don’t want anyone else to. i can’t help but think no one will appreciate them like i do… did… would if you’d let me again. can we get a take two? redo? a second chance. i can love you better.”

minghao: “it’s raining. i feel like that’s all i have to say for you to know exactly what i’m thinking—all the things i’m feeling. what was it about us and the rain? did you ever figure it out? sometimes i wonder if you still try to, or if you’ve moved on, but i miss us when it rained. you sat backwards on the couch to watch the city lights blur. you talked about life like you were from another time and blamed it on the weather. you talked about me with complete certainty.”

seungkwan: “do you think about getting back together? how would you feel if i asked? i keep dialing your number first thing in the morning, before i’m wide awake, before i’ve completely lost the dream you were in, and the wanting makes me feel blissed out and uninhibited. then, i blink too many times and never do it. i wish you would reach out to me. i’d be so happy to see your name on my phone again. i took all of our calls for granted. i was too confident in us. there was never a reason not to be.”

vernon: “the courtyard behind the contemporary art museum is having a free concert this saturday. i’m going. it starts at 7, ends at 9. it’s supposed to be cold, so you should wear layers and cover your ears—the wind won’t be kind. i’ll bring a green tea with soy milk, so don’t worry about a drink. it’s a folk singer. you probably know her.”

chan: “i hope you’re still laying in the grass and using the moonlight to write in your journal. i hope there’s a ladybug on your cheek and sand in your socks. i hope you’re laughing and loving life and crossing items off on your mundanity list—or are you calling it a bucket list now? i hope you finally took that cake decorating class. i hope your mom’s healthy.”

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formulaonecrumbs · 2 months ago

Text

we’re meant to be just friends

Lando Norris x best friend!reader

summary: lando and reader have been best friends since birth (their mums have been best friends since year 10) and now they have to navigate having secret feelings for each other while still growing up.

warnings: angsty, weird ass ending, girlfriend and girl best friend type trope, both of them being dicks, not really a happy ending ? idk tbh.

A/N: HIIIII this is long but i got very passionate with it. i went thru a break up recently (not a terrible one, we hadn’t been dating for that long but still sad) i felt like writing about something sad to make myself feel something. it worked. i hope u cry to this THATS THE GOAL 🙏 but enjoy nonetheless. this is low-key cringe, cheesy and i don’t even think the fight is very reasonable 😭 it’s also very badly written, especially towards the end, i got very tired as i wrote it even tho i kept going 😭 i have chapters and chapters written on these before any of this even happened (like happy cutesy ones) so if u want those LEMME KNOOWWW i love yaaallllll ❤️❤️

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you texted him at exactly 12:00am.

happy birthday lando. sixteen looks good on you.

you stared at the message for a long time after sending it. he responded a few minutes later—something with hearts and too many exclamation points, asking when you were coming over, if you were still making him that dumb cake you promised.

you didn’t reply.

you turned your phone off.

because the night before, everything fell apart.

your mum crying in the kitchen. your dad packing a bag. voices raised and cold silence and the word divorce tossed out like it was just another sentence.

and now you were supposed to get up, put on something cute, and act like nothing had changed—because it was lando’s birthday. and if anyone deserved a good day, it was him.

so you did it.

you curled your hair. wore his favorite color. even smiled when you walked into his house with the stupid chocolate cake in your hands. you didn’t let your hands shake.

his whole family was there. some of his friends too. people he knew from karting, from school. everyone buzzing around, excited for him. and lando—he was glowing.

he pulled you into a hug the second he saw you. he held on a little too long.

you didn’t mind. in fact, you kind of wanted to stay there forever.

“you okay?” he whispered near your ear.

you pulled back fast, smiled bright, and nodded. “yeah. just tired.”

he didn’t believe you. but he didn’t push it either.

you sat through presents and cake and cisca’s terrible off-tune singing. you watched lando laugh and light up every room he entered. you even teased him for crying a little when his older brother gave him a new watch.

you didn’t cry once. not even when he sat beside you later and leaned his head against yours for a minute.

but then your parents showed up.

together. for once.

and that’s when it cracked.

your dad was late. your mum was snappy. one wrong comment turned into another. then it escalated. right there—at the door. in front of everyone.

“you said you’d be on time for once.”

“i wouldn’t be late if you didn’t change the plans without telling me.”

“oh right, because you’re so good at communicating—”

“don’t start, not here—”

you froze on the stairs, halfway down. every muscle in your body tense.

lando was near the kitchen, eyes locked on you. he looked scared. for you.

cisca stepped in fast, soft but firm. “sweetheart, why don’t you head upstairs for a bit?”

you didn’t argue. you couldn’t even speak. you just turned around and walked to lando’s room like it was instinct. like it was the only place you could breathe.

you sat on the edge of his bed, shoes still on, hands clenched in your lap. the quiet was suffocating. your ears were still ringing from their voices. from the memories.

lando walked in a few seconds later and closed the door behind him.

he didn’t say anything at first.

just sat beside you. close. not touching.

after a minute, he quietly said, “you should’ve told me.”

you stared at your hands. “i didn’t want to ruin your birthday.”

“you think this is better?”

you laughed, sharp and small. “i thought i could keep it together.”

“you have been keeping it together,” he said, turning toward you. “too well. that’s the problem.”

you looked at him finally. and god, the way he was looking at you—like you were breakable, like you were everything—it made your throat burn.

“i don’t know how to do this,” you whispered. “i don’t know how to pretend that everything’s fine anymore.”

“then don’t pretend with me.”

you blinked fast. your eyes burned. your chest hurt.

“i don’t want to cry on your birthday,” you said, voice cracking.

“then cry with me,” he said. “i don’t care if it’s my birthday. i care that you’re hurting and i didn’t know.”

you didn’t mean to—but the tears came anyway.

and when they did, he was already there. arms around you, pulling you in like he was afraid you’d disappear. his hand on your back, soft and steady. his chin resting on your shoulder.

you buried your face in his hoodie and let it all out. you sobbed until your throat ached. until your fingers curled into his shirt like you needed him to hold you together.

and he did. every second of it.

when you finally pulled back, red-eyed and exhausted, he reached up and brushed your hair away from your face. his thumb hovered near your cheek.

“you’re still my favorite person,” he said, so quietly you almost missed it.

your breath hitched.

“even when i’m a mess?” you whispered.

“especially then.”

and there it was again—that moment.

the air between you shifting. your eyes flicking to his lips. his hand still on your cheek. your heart pounding so loud it hurt.

but neither of you moved.

not this time.

just a look. a feeling. a thousand unspoken things resting in the space between your faces.

and then—

he smiled.

not the usual cheeky grin. a soft, knowing one. like he’d wait as long as it took.

“come here,” he said, tugging you gently back into his chest.

you curled into him like it was second nature.

because it was.

and maybe you didn’t kiss him.

but god, it felt like everything still changed anyway.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

he missed her thing.

he didn’t mean to, but he did.

he’d been racing that weekend—some big european karting event his team wouldn’t let him skip. the timing was awful, but he told her he’d be back. swore he’d make it for her art showcase. even booked an early flight.

but delays happened. schedules changed. his phone died halfway through the day. and by the time he made it to her school, the lights were off. the gym was empty.

her project—some massive sculpture thing she’d been working on for weeks—was still standing in the corner.

he stared at it for a long time.

he didn’t know a lot about art, but he knew it mattered to her. and she’d asked him—just this once—to show up.

he went to her house straight after.

her mum let him in, gave him this soft, tight-lipped smile like she already knew how this was gonna go.

she was in her room, headphones in, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her sketchbook open. her eyes flicked up when he walked in, and something behind them just… shut off.

“hey,” he said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

she didn’t answer. didn’t even pause her music.

“i’m sorry,” he said, stepping closer. “my flight got delayed, and then i—“

“save it,” she said flatly, pulling out one earbud.

he blinked. “wait, what?”

she closed her sketchbook with a sharp snap. “i don’t want to hear the excuses.”

“it’s not an excuse. i tried to get here. i wanted to be there—”

“but you weren’t.”

his chest tightened. “it wasn’t my fault.”

“it never is,” she snapped, standing up now. “you’re always off racing somewhere, always too busy, too far, and i’m just supposed to be okay with it.”

“that’s not fair—”

“isn’t it?” she cut in, voice rising. “you missed something that actually mattered to me.”

he stepped back like she’d slapped him. “i know. and i’m sorry. but it’s not like i was off partying—i was working.”

“yeah, and i’m tired of always being second place to your ‘work.’”

that one hit hard.

he opened his mouth to argue. to explain. to fix it.

but instead, something snapped.

“you think this is easy for me?” he said, louder than he meant to. “you think i like missing things? i hate it, alright? i hate missing you. but this is my life. this is what i’ve worked for.”

“and what about me, lando?” her voice cracked. “am i just supposed to sit here and wait for you to show up when it’s convenient for you?”

“you know that’s not how it is.”

“do i?” she asked, quieter now. “because lately it’s starting to feel like i’m just… here. like i’m just background noise to your main story.”

he flinched.

the silence stretched.

she turned away, crossing her arms like she was trying to hold herself together. “you used to be my person.”

“i still am,” he said, softer. “you’re still mine.”

“then act like it.”

his throat felt tight. “i don’t know what you want me to say.”

“i wanted you to be there.”

and there it was. simple. devastating.

“i know,” he said, barely a whisper.

she didn’t look at him.

and for the first time in their lives, he didn’t know how to fix it.

he left not long after.

she didn’t stop him.

he sat in his car in her driveway for a long time, forehead pressed to the steering wheel, trying not to cry.

and that scared him.

because fights were supposed to be temporary. but this—this felt like it might actually change something between them.

and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

the thing about drifting apart is that it doesn’t always feel like a storm. sometimes it’s just a slow unraveling. a little less texting. a few more missed calls. “sorry, i’ve been busy” and “maybe next week” and “i’ll let you know.”

after the fight, things weren’t the same.

you still talked, sure. still saw each other at school, at home when your mums made you. you even laughed a few times, shared inside jokes that hadn’t died yet. but the closeness—the everythingness of him—faded.

and you didn’t know how to get it back.

you were busy too. school, college applications, helping your mum through the new house paperwork. lando had racing, constant travel, interviews, training. life kept happening.

but still, sometimes at night, you’d catch yourself staring at your phone, wondering if he was thinking about you too.

it happened on a tuesday.

you were sitting in your usual spot at lunch, half-listening to the girls next to you talk about a physics quiz, when he walked in.

you looked up automatically. you always did.

he was with someone.

she was pretty. like, really pretty.

long dark hair, soft features, that kind of quiet confidence people didn’t need to announce. she wore his jacket—his—and she was laughing at something he said, like it was the funniest thing in the world.

he looked relaxed. light. like he didn’t have the weight of the last few months still sitting in his chest.

like he hadn’t even noticed the space between you anymore.

you looked away before he could see your face.

her name was sienna.

apparently they’d met at a karting event in italy. she was someone’s niece or cousin or whatever—lando hadn’t really explained much, just said she was cool, and funny, and they’d hit it off.

he started bringing her around more often.

you’d come over for dinner and she’d already be there. feet up on his couch. curled up with his dog. flipping through channels like she belonged there.

you told yourself it was fine.

you smiled when she hugged you. laughed when she made a joke. complimented her perfume, her nails, her hair. you were everything you were supposed to be.

and it felt like hell.

one night, you were at his house. a group hangout, supposedly. except it was mostly sienna, lando, and background noise.

you sat on the floor, pretending to scroll through your phone, while she talked about some race he had coming up. he watched her talk like she hung the stars.

your stomach twisted.

you got up, said you had to pee, and slipped away.

you ended up in his old room. the one that still had your hoodie in his drawer, your handwriting on sticky notes, your pillow tucked in beside his.

you sat on the edge of his bed, heart too loud, throat too tight.

you didn’t cry. not yet. but you were close.

“hey.”

his voice came from the doorway.

you didn’t turn.

“you okay?”

“yeah,” you lied.

he walked in, shut the door behind him. the soft click of it sounded too final.

“you’ve been quiet all night,” he said gently.

you shrugged. “guess i’m just tired.”

“you sure?”

you looked up at him. he was watching you with that face—the one he used to make when he knew something was wrong, back before he pretended he didn’t.

“you like her?” you asked, before you could stop yourself.

he blinked. “what?”

“sienna,” you said. “you like her?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “yeah. i do.”

you nodded. it felt like someone had punched a hole in your chest.

he sat beside you, close but not touching.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked quietly.

“i dunno,” he said. “guess i thought you wouldn’t care.”

you turned to him. “why would you think that?”

“i don’t know,” he said again, voice smaller. “you’ve been… distant.”

“so have you.”

he looked down at his hands. “i didn’t mean to be.”

“neither did i.”

the silence between you stretched, long and heavy.

you stared at the space between your knees. “it just feels like you’re disappearing from my life one piece at a time.”

he flinched. “i’m not trying to.”

“but you are.”

and he didn’t deny it.

you didn’t cry until after he left the room.

that night, you stayed up staring at the ceiling, wondering when exactly it had changed—when he stopped being yours, even in the way that didn’t need words.

and the worst part wasn’t that he liked someone else.

it was that he didn’t even see that you were still right there, waiting for him to notice.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

it’s been weeks now.

lando’s been busy. sienna’s been around. and you—well, you’ve just been… existing. you’ve kept up the act. the one where everything’s fine. where things between you and lando haven’t changed, even though they’ve completely changed.

the worst part is, it’s not like you even meant for it to happen. you didn’t set out to drift. it just sort of happened. one conversation at a time, one unanswered text at a time. it’s like you’ve been shrinking into yourself.

and the worst part is you’re not sure if lando even notices.

but you notice.

you notice when you don’t hear from him for days. when he’s always with sienna, his laugh easy and carefree. when you’re left standing on the sidelines, wondering if you’re still his best friend or if that title’s been handed to someone else.

you don’t say anything about it. of course, you don’t.

not when you’re still figuring it out, not when you still don’t know what’s worse: the way you feel about him or the way things are between you two now.

it happens one afternoon, when you’re sitting on his bed, trying to make conversation that feels like nothing—about school, about college, about races. anything to fill the gap between you. but it’s too late for small talk.

“i saw you with sienna last night,” you say quietly, looking at the way your fingers play with the edge of your sleeve.

lando’s sitting on the floor, leaning against his dresser. his brow furrows. “yeah? we were out for dinner.” he pauses. “it was fun.”

you nod. “i can see that.”

the words come out before you can stop them, too sharp to take back.

he looks at you, confusion in his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you shrug, but it doesn’t feel like a shrug. it feels like everything you’ve been holding inside for so long, but not enough to let it spill over yet. “i don’t know. just feels like you don’t really need me anymore.”

lando goes quiet. he glances down at his hands before looking up at you again. there’s something raw in his eyes. something that makes your heart skip.

“you’re still my best friend,” he says, but there’s this uncertainty in his voice that catches you off guard. “just… you’ve been distant, too.”

“i haven’t been distant,” you snap, before you can catch yourself. “i’ve been right here. but you’ve got your new girlfriend now, and everything’s different, lando. i don’t know where i fit in anymore.”

he winces. and that’s all it takes for the dam to break.

“i don’t fit in anymore,” you continue, voice shaking. “and that’s fine. i get it. i just wish i didn’t feel like i was losing you. like you don’t even care that i’m still here.”

there’s this long pause, one that stretches so thin you’re scared it’ll snap. and then, lando finally speaks.

“i do care,” he says, his voice low. “but i don’t know how to make it right. i feel like i’m constantly messing things up.”

he runs a hand through his hair, looking lost for the first time in ages.

“i don’t know what i’m doing, either,” you say, more quietly now. “it’s just… we’re not the same anymore, lando. we’re different.”

he doesn’t say anything, but you can see the hurt in his eyes. you don’t want to be the reason he looks like that, but you can’t help it.

“maybe we need some time apart,” you say softly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, like they don’t even belong to you. but you say them anyway.

lando doesn’t answer right away. instead, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then, his voice cracks.

“do you really want that?”

it’s the way he says it that breaks something inside of you. like he’s already afraid of the answer.

you look away, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “i think we need it.”

the silence between you two is deafening, but it feels necessary. like it’s a breath that’s been held too long.

finally, lando speaks again. “i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t lose me,” you whisper, but even you don’t believe it.

he gets up from the floor slowly and sits next to you, but not too close. the distance feels wrong. you’ve never been this far apart before.

“i’m sorry,” he says after a long pause. “i didn’t mean for things to get like this.”

“me neither.”

you don’t know what else to say after that. nothing feels like it’ll fix it. nothing feels like enough.

so, you just sit there, in the quiet.

maybe you just need to be apart for a while. maybe this time will give you both the space you need. maybe it won’t.

but for now, it’s all you’ve got.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

it’s been five months.

five months since you last heard from him. five months since you decided to give each other space. at first, it felt like a break—a necessary one. but now, five months in, it just feels like a silence that stretches farther than you ever imagined it would.

you tell yourself that you’re okay. that it’s fine. that you’re not missing him—because that’s a lie, right?

but you do.

you miss the way he used to laugh at the stupidest things. the way he’d always come up with excuses to hang out even if it was just for a few minutes. you miss the way you’d talk about everything and nothing at the same time. the easy connection you used to share.

instead, it’s just… nothing.

his name doesn’t pop up in your texts anymore. you’re not invited to his races, not even as a friend. sienna’s always there. and maybe, just maybe, that’s what hurts the most: the feeling of being replaced, the sense that you’re not needed in his world anymore.

the worst part is, it’s not even his fault. it’s yours. you asked for the distance. you don’t want to blame him for any of it, but you still do.

you’ve been busy, too. school, friends, other things that keep you distracted. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

but in the quiet moments, when your thoughts wander, it’s like you can feel his absence in the pit of your stomach.

there’s a part of you that wants to text him. to break the silence. but you can’t bring yourself to do it. not after all this time. it’s like you’ve let the distance build a wall between you that you can’t tear down. and every time you think about reaching out, you wonder if he’s even thought about you at all.

one evening, as you sit alone in your room, your phone buzzes. it’s a message from your dad. you quickly check it, hoping for something normal, something to distract you from the thoughts that keep swirling.

but it’s nothing.

and in that nothingness, you feel it again. the void. the space that’s taken over every corner of your life, every place lando used to fill.

you push your phone aside, and the tears come anyway.

it’s stupid. it’s so stupid. he’s just… not part of your life anymore. and you shouldn’t care as much as you do. but you do. you care more than you’ve let yourself admit.

and then, there’s a knock at the door.

you wipe your eyes quickly, assuming it’s your mom. but when you open it, there’s no one there. instead, there’s just a single envelope on the floor, the handwriting on the front unmistakable.

lando.

you stand there for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up or leave it there. but your hand moves before your mind catches up. you pick up the envelope, heart pounding in your chest as you pull out the letter.

it’s short.

hey, it’s been a while. i hope you’re doing okay. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen. i miss you. - lando.

it’s simple. it’s too simple. and yet, it feels like the most important thing anyone’s ever said to you.

you read it again. and again. and for a moment, you let the tears fall without trying to stop them. because in the silence of the last five months, this is all you needed: an acknowledgment that he still thinks about you.

but you don’t know how to respond.

you want to. god, you want to. but it feels like it’s too late now. like five months of nothing is too much to fix.

still, you take a deep breath, grab your phone, and start typing a message.

hey, i miss you, too. i’m sorry, too.

you stop, staring at the message for a long moment. and then, you delete it.

maybe this isn’t the time to break the silence. maybe it’s not even time to start speaking again.

but for the first time in five months, you don’t feel so alone.

THE END :>

244 notes · View notes

maewphoria · 29 days ago

Text

⠀

⌗⠀양정원⠀⠀CAT⠀DISTRIBUTION⠀SYSTEM⠀꒰⠀PT.4⠀꒱

⠀

SYNOPSIS⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀starting college in a new city, you’re settling into your apartment and trying to make it feel like home. on your first day, a fluffy calico cat appears on your neighbor's balcony, jumping towards yours as if to greet you, stealing your heart instantly. but when a voice calls out for the cat from the next balcony, panic sets in—you rush back inside, too shy to meet your new neighbor. that neighbor turns out to be yang jungwon, a fellow student in the same university who’s also new in town. thanks to his mischievous and adventurous cat, the two of you keep running into each other in the most unexpected ways. a friendship blossoms, slowly turning into something deeper—though jungwon keeps insisting it’s nothing more than friendship. as feelings grow stronger, the question remains: will their bond turn into something more—or remain just a college memory?

pairing⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀college student!yang jungwon x college student!f.reader. featuring⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀all enhypen members, le sserafim yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon, aespa winter and karina (soon). word count⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀13.562k genre⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, kinda slow burn, college life, university life, slice of life, comedy (although i don't find myself funny), friendships, relationships, and the cat distribution system. (it has chosen you and gave you two lovely cats.) warnings⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀drinking alcohol, parties, getting drunk (obviously), misunderstandings, jealousy, denial (jungwon is in denial), cowardice behaviour (jungwon is also a coward), lots of flirting and tension, cat keeps breaking into your apartment, kissing, skinship, reader (aka us) is very delusional and does a lot of overthinking, a bit cringe (i think it's cringe bcs i wrote it), and might contain suggestive content in the later parts that are yet to be posted. lowercase letters intended. very proofread. tell me if i'm missing anything. mæw's notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀hi guys! pt.4 is finally out! please enjoy! i kinda had a hard time writing pt.4 because i don’t really know what it’s like to study at a university abroad. i had to do some research on schools like harvard and ucla, and i found out they have over 100 buildings—like wtf? so i ended up creating my own university from scratch, added courses, building names, and all that. i just hope it’s somewhat close to how it is in real life. likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

library⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀part one. part two. part three.

#⠀OO5⠀:⠀WRONG TURNS AND REGRETS.

it had been three weeks since the welcoming party for the architecture students—an event you had somehow, miraculously, survived despite being a business ad major who had absolutely no business being there in the first place. yet the mystery gnawed at you still: how, exactly, had you gotten home that night?

for days, you pestered your friends for answers, clinging onto the hope that someone, anyone, might remember. but their confusion only mirrored your own. none of them knew how they had returned either.

they had all woken up already sprawled in their own dormitory as if placed there by invisible hands.

yunjin and kazuha were tangled together in a half-conscious cuddle on the living room carpet, while chaewon had managed to claim the entirety of the sofa for herself, mouth slightly agape, a small snore escaping every few breaths.

their recollections aligned eerily with yours—except for the part where you woke up tucked neatly in your own room.

your cropped crochet open-knit bolero was gone from your shoulders, folded neatly atop your bedside table. left behind was just your black spaghetti strap crop top, the hem riding a little too high up your stomach because of how deep your sleep was, and your shoes and socks resting side by side on the floor.

the scene was unsettlingly familiar, like déjà vu reaching out and tapping you on the shoulder. it reminded you of that night, just two nights before, when jungwon had helped your drunken self wobble back home with both patience and grace.

perhaps, maybe, it was jungwon once again.

except—you hadn't properly spoken to him since that afternoon when he had helped you carry and move your furniture into your new apartment.

he hadn’t even messaged, save for that polite "you're welcome" he sent, replying to your thank you message the morning before the party, a message so brief yet so final it almost stung. you didn’t even know if he had attended the party.

you and your friends obsessed over the mystery for a few more days, exchanging theories that grew more ridiculous with each retelling, until eventually the puzzle pieces were abandoned, scattered into the corners of your minds. life simply moved on.

your days resumed their steady, predictable rhythm.

yami would occasionally grace your apartment with her presence, weaving between your legs and purring like she owned the place.

you also dedicated yourself to preparing for the impending start of classes, assembling supplies and adjusting to the small, adult routines of calling your parents, updating them on your well-being and pretending everything was under perfect control.

you often found yourself heading down to the lobby to collect yet another delivery or two—nothing screamed adulthood like ordering a random cat mug at 2am. you ran errands with your friends, laughing over the ridiculous list of essentials you somehow convinced yourselves were necessary for survival.

yet despite all the activity, one thing remained absent: jungwon.

not a glimpse. not even a fleeting shadow at the end of the corridor. despite living on the same floor, breathing the same recycled air of the building, he remained conspicuously missing.

you told yourself it was simply bad timing. maybe he was busy, after all, school was only a week away, and the looming pressure was starting to make even the calmest of students a little erratic.

yunjin, in particular, had turned into a delightful hurricane of stress, insisting she didn't have enough materials even as her arms overflowed with sketchbooks, pencils, and highlighters of every conceivable color.

you, chaewon, and kazuha simply watched her spin through the aisles of the school and art supplies store, your expressions a perfect blend of concern and secondhand embarrassment.

"she must be excited," the three of you thought in unison, exchanging knowing glances as yunjin bolted toward yet another aisle like a woman possessed, clutching a sixth sketchpad to her chest.

the last week of the month slipped through your fingers like water, and before you could truly brace yourself, it was already the morning of your first day, orientation and tour day.

now you stood frozen in front of your closet, eyes darting from hanger to hanger, as if the right outfit might magically materialize if you stared long enough.

nerves twisted in your stomach.

you were nervous—nervous that you might get lost on campus despite yunjin thoughtfully printing out campus maps for all of you, highlighting routes and buildings like a seasoned tour guide.

nervous that you might embarrass yourself, trip over nothing, mispronounce a professor’s name, or somehow make such a terrible first impression that your professors would loathe you on sight (spoiler: they wouldn’t).

but above all else, you were nervous because, even though your friends were attending the same university, they were scattered across different programs and faculties. for the first time in one month, you were truly on your own.

after what felt like an eternity of agonizing, you finally chose your outfit—something comfortable yet respectable—and swiftly packed your tote bag with every essential you could think of: a notebook, a pen, your wallet, a mini hand sanitizer, a spare charger, tissues, your mini make up bag, and a quiet hope that you wouldn’t cry in public.

you quickly ran a brush through your hair, trying to tame the chaos, then hurried out of your apartment, juggling the strap of your bag over your shoulder as you half-sprinted toward the elevators.

as you rounded the corner, a familiar figure came into view—jungwon.

your heart skipped a beat, a flash of relief blooming in your chest. instinctively, you called out to him, voice light with the kind of casual friendliness you reserved for someone you were hoping to bump into.

he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours—and for a split second, something unreadable flickered across his face.

but then, just as you reached out your hand as if to tell him to stop the elevator doors from closing. despite seeing you, jungwon did the unthinkable.

he let the elevator doors close.

right. in. front. of. you.

you stood there, blinking at the now shut metallic doors, your hand still slightly raised in midair, feeling like you had just been personally victimized by the universe.

“what the fuck was that about?” you muttered under your breath, pressing the elevator button with a bit more force than necessary, your mind racing through every possible explanation, none of which made any sense.

meanwhile, inside the descending elevator, jungwon was a whirlwind of self-inflicted misery.

he leaned his forehead against the cool metal wall, lightly banging it once, twice, before dragging his hand through his hair in pure frustration.

“fuck,” he hissed to no one in particular.

he could still see it—the exact expression you had given him through the narrowing gap of the doors. you had looked so... betrayed. and annoyed.

so wonderfully, vividly pretty despite the negative emotions plastered on your face.

this was the first time he had ever seen you wear that expression, and somehow, it managed to stab him right in the chest despite only knowing you for a month.

he wished he could rewind time, shove his foot between the doors and do anything but what he had just done. but deep down, he knew that even if he had stopped the doors, the air between you would have been thick with something worse than awkwardness.

because the truth was, jungwon had been avoiding you. deliberately.

and the worst part? you didn’t even know why.

technically, you had done something. but you were so devastatingly drunk that night, you couldn’t possibly remember it—and jungwon wasn’t planning on telling you, not now, not ever.

not if he could help it.

he let out a heavy sigh, a sound full of regret, and stepped out of the elevator, shoulders slightly hunched as if he could physically shrink away from the guilt clinging to him. he barely made it out of the apartment building when a voice cut sharply through the air, halting him in his tracks.

“jungwon!”

he gasped audibly, body stiffening like a startled cat. he knew that voice—knew it down to the very marrow of his bones.

he didn’t want to turn around. every instinct screamed at him to keep walking, to pretend he hadn’t heard. but guilt is a heavy thing, and it anchored his feet to the ground.

reluctantly, jungwon turned.

and instantly wished he hadn’t.

there you were, standing not far from him, brows knitted together in pure exasperation, confusion swirling in your eyes, and—worst of all—a tiny glint of hurt buried beneath it all.

he felt the ground tilt beneath him.

“h-hey, y/n…” he stammered, voice pitching higher than he intended, forcing an awkward chuckle out in a weak attempt to appear casual.

you raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow, the kind of expression that could slice a man’s ego clean in half. then, with deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you.

jungwon froze again, practically forgetting how to breathe as you stopped right in front of him, arms folding across your chest in a perfect display of judgment.

“earlier. at the elevator,” you said, your tone flat, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “what the hell was that about?”

your bluntness struck him like a slap, and he scrambled internally for an answer that would save him. his eyes darted everywhere—from the pavement to a passing bird to an invisible point in the sky—anywhere but your face.

for a brief moment, his brain offered him nothing but static. then, like a merciful flick of fate, an idea sparked.

“i—i misjudged!” he blurted out, straightening up a little, trying to sound convincing. “i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!”

he mentally patted himself on the back for that one, almost proud of the quick recovery.

but you weren’t buying it.

you narrowed your eyes at him, your frown deepening. “i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.”

jungwon winced, the truth of your words hitting harder than he cared to admit.

“oh… right,” he muttered, suddenly finding the cracks on the sidewalk incredibly interesting. he shuffled his feet, searching desperately for an escape hatch, but it was obvious—he was trapped. there would be no running from this confrontation.

so, he went for the simplest, oldest trick in the book: sincerity (and his looks).

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, lifting his head to meet your gaze with the most devastatingly apologetic look he could summon. his big, round eyes practically screamed forgiveness, the corners of his lips tugging down in a perfect portrait of remorse.

and it worked. he saw it—the moment your defenses cracked, a twitch of a smile betraying you.

jungwon seized his opportunity like a man who had been offered a pardon.

“then—goodbye, y/n! see you around!” he chirped brightly, spinning on his heel and sprinting away like a guilty cartoon character.

you blinked, stunned into silence, watching his retreating figure with growing disbelief. it took your brain several long, painful seconds to reboot, short-circuiting somewhere between ‘he looks so cute!’ and ‘wait, did he just run away?’

“hey! wait, we’re going in the same direction!” you called out, but it was too late. jungwon was already halfway down the street, pretending not to hear you.

you stood there, blinking dumbly after him, utterly bewildered by what had just transpired.

you exhaled through your nose, trying to calm your nerves, and pulled out your phone with a resigned sigh. you booked yourself an uber—because clearly, walking in the same direction as jungwon was not on today's agenda.

as if sensing your gaze still somewhere near him, jungwon abruptly veered off to another street, almost comically dramatic with the way he ducked his head and hurried his steps, clearly trying to escape your line of sight.

pathetic. dramatic. suspiciously fast. definitely guilty.

meanwhile, in his small spiral of panic, jungwon fumbled with his phone, his thumbs moving in a frenzy as he typed out a message to riki.

jungwon: where r u. pick me up. now.

but before he could even finish cursing under his breath, riki’s familiar car came to a stop right in front of him, its timing almost poetic.

the passenger-side window rolled down with a mechanical hum, revealing sunoo, who stared at him with an expression that perfectly blended confusion and secondhand embarrassment.

“yo, you look like you just got chased by a ghost,” sunoo said flatly, squinting at jungwon’s slightly sweaty forehead and thoroughly ruffled hair. “or, like, karma.”

jungwon rolled his eyes with a dramatic groan, not even trying to explain himself as he yanked open the back door.

“long story,” he muttered, flopping into the seat like a man who had just survived a war—an emotional war, perhaps, but a war nonetheless.

riki, in the driver's seat and already smirking, glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “good. we’ve got time,” he quipped, clearly eager for some tea.

jungwon waved a hand weakly in the air, “just drive,” he muttered. “we’ll be late.”

riki turned to sunoo with a knowing look. sunoo shrugged, as if to say ‘don’t look at me’, and riki shrugged right back. without further protest, he shifted gears and pulled out of the street, the car humming softly as they began the drive to campus.

jungwon leaned his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes. he could still see your face—your expression when you caught him ditching you at the elevator, the betrayal in your eyes, the sheer ‘what the hell’ radiating off you like heat.

and worse, he could still hear the echo of your voice: “we’re going in the same direction!”

tragically… you were right.

you, on the other hand, had already slipped into the back seat of your uber, the cool leather offering a small comfort as the city passed by in a blur. the ride was quiet—your driver occasionally humming along to the radio while you stared out the window, half-lost in your thoughts. within minutes, the car pulled up to your destination.

there it was. your university. grand horizon university. standing tall and proud, like an academic kingdom with gates flung wide open, welcoming—and slightly overwhelming—its new citizens.

students swarmed the entrance like ants on a sugar cube. some were poring over crumpled maps with puzzled brows, others paced in small circles while mumbling to themselves. a few brave souls had resorted to asking complete strangers where to go, and many had approached the campus security guards like weary travelers begging for directions to the nearest oasis.

you reached into your tote, pulled out your phone, and snapped a quick photo of the chaos—a little memento of your first day. the picture captured the mix of excitement and confusion around you, and you sent it to your group chat with a quick message:

you: i’ve arrived. front gate. help before i disappear into the crowd.

you were just about to scroll idly when you felt a sudden presence behind you—followed by familiar squeals and arms flinging around your shoulders.

“boo!” yunjin’s voice rang in your ear, immediately followed by kazuha and chaewon joining in on the ambush, their smiles wide, their energy contagious.

you spun around, pretending to scowl but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. you hugged them all back, your nerves easing just a little with the comfort of familiar faces.

“you could’ve warned me,” you muttered with faux irritation, brushing your hair back.

“where’s the fun in that?” kazuha smirked.

together, the four of you started walking toward the main entrance towards the main building in the middle of the university, your chatter bouncing lightly between you, an easy mix of nervous laughter and unfiltered panic.

“okay but like... are we ready?” chaewon asked, adjusting her strap bag anxiously.

“mentally? no. emotionally? also no. physically? barely.” yunjin replied, flailing her arms dramatically. “but spiritually? absolutely not.”

you all laughed, and for a moment, the tension melted. but as soon as the university doors opened, the noise hit you like a wave.

inside was just as chaotic—if not worse—than outside. students were huddled around bulletin boards, craning their necks and squinting as they tried to decipher lists of names, classroom codes, building numbers and names, and professor names that sounded made-up.

you weaved through the crowd with your friends and finally found your schedules, each of you staring on your copies of the campus map.

and then came the collective groan.

“ugh! why does this university have to look like a whole freaking village?” yunjin cried, clutching her map like it had betrayed her.

“tell me about it,” kazuha added, staring at her map like it might rearrange the buildings if she blinked hard enough. “i swear, i’m about to rent an electric scooter. or a horse.”

“why,” you said slowly, squinting at the map, “does this university have two hundred and thirty buildings?”

they both turned to pat your shoulders in silent solidarity, as if sharing the same academic tragedy. you sighed dramatically, already feeling the weight of your future footsteps.

you all then looked at chaewon, silently praying she had it just as bad.

she glanced at her schedule and gave a sheepish shrug. “mine’s kinda near... but also not? like, it’s not far-far but it’s not close either.”

you, yunjin, and kazuha groaned in unison before rolling your eyes and playfully turning your backs on her, walking away as if she had betrayed the sisterhood.

“rude!” chaewon called after you three with a laugh, instantly chasing after you with quick steps, and soon enough, you were all walking again, side by side, navigating the labyrinth together.

“good thing we only have orientations and campus tours today. if we had actual classes right now, we’d probably be buried under a pile of wrong turns and regrets,” you said, half-laughing as you glanced down at your phone.

you tapped a quick message to your parents—‘i made it to school safely’—along with a photo of the university gate for good measure. your mom had already sent three heart emojis and a good luck gif. classic.

with that done, you turned your attention back to the ever-confusing campus map that you folded and tucked between your fingers, just behind your phone earlier.

“okay, so right now we’re at aurora hall,” you began, squinting at the tiny lines and icons. “and i need to get to the south part of campus.”

your words caught everyone’s attention. three heads immediately leaned over your shoulder, eyes narrowing like detectives over a case file.

“wait—you’re going to the south campus too?” yunjin asked, pointing at the lower quadrant of your map. “what building?”

you tilted your map toward her while pointing at the building. “the vanguard business hall. apparently that’s the main building for business admin majors.”

as soon as the words left your mouth, the excitement erupted.

“no way, i’m headed there too!” yunjin gasped, then quickly clarified. “well, not there—i’ve got architecture at arcadia studios, but it’s in the same area.”

“me too,” kazuha chimed in, flashing a grin. “grand horizon performing arts center. sounds dramatic. fitting, right?”

chaewon raised her hand like she was in class. “silver screen studios for film and tv. also south campus.”

and just like that, a burst of collective relief washed over the group. you all let out a synchronized squeal, followed by a group hug that was slightly chaotic and entirely uncoordinated. still, it felt good—like the universe had decided to bless you today.

at least for the trip to south campus, you wouldn't be alone.

“okay, transportation,” chaewon said, already back in planner mode. “should we rent e-bikes or ride the shuttle buses?”

you all looked down at the map again, tracing little lines between buildings, searching for the nearest shuttle stops and rental stations.

“e-bikes sound cute in theory,” yunjin mused, “but we’d probably end up somewhere in a forbidden faculty zone and get expelled before day two.”

“true,” you said, nodding. “let’s not risk accidental trespassing just yet.”

the group collectively agreed: shuttle bus it was.soon enough, you were all sprinting through the university corridors like you were in a slice-of-life anime opening sequence. wind in your hair, laughter echoing behind you, dodging slow walkers like pros, and somehow managing to arrive at the shuttle bus station just in time.

the vehicle hissed to a halt as students boarded one by one, and the four of you squeezed into the middle row, still catching your breath and trying to act like you weren’t about to melt from the sprint.

as the bus rolled forward, it passed through winding lanes, landscaped gardens, and sleek buildings that shimmered beneath the sun. the driver, with a calm voice and an obvious love for punctuality, announced each stop clearly through the overhead speaker:

“silver screen studios.”

“grand horizon performing arts center.”

“arcadia studios.”

one by one, your friends got off. chaewon first, waving enthusiastically. then kazuha, who gave a little spin before hopping off, dramatically clutching her schedule like a script. yunjin followed next, shooting you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you’ve got this’.

and finally, it was your turn.you stood, your tote slung over your shoulder, and stepped off with the others headed toward the vanguard business hall—a part of the sprawling college of business and management complex.

as your shoes hit the pavement, you took a deep breath. this was it. your first real step into university life.

then, you looked up at the towering structure before you, your breath hitching slightly in awe.

the vanguard business hall stood like a monument to ambition—ten stories high, cloaked in sleek panels of silver and glass that shimmered beneath the morning light. its clean lines and polished finish gave it the kind of sharp sophistication that whispered, ‘only the bold survive here’. it was the kind of building that didn’t just exist—it announced itself.

for a moment, you stood at the base of it, tilting your head all the way back just to take it in, as if you were trying to absorb some of its power through sheer admiration. you could almost hear it taunting you, daring you to prove you belonged here.

you exhaled softly and squared your shoulders, adjusting the strap of your bag as if it might suddenly make you feel more grown-up, more prepared.

then you quietly muttered under your breath, a little pep talk to yourself, “okay... good luck, me.”

and with that final whisper of hope and bravado, you stepped forward and pushed open the glass doors—walking into the future with all the courage, curiosity, and slightly faked confidence you could muster.

just a few minutes earlier, jungwon and his friends had found themselves in a strikingly similar situation as you and your group—equally disoriented, equally overwhelmed, and just as hilariously unprepared for the sheer sprawl of campus life.

the five of them had huddled around a map, each trying to decipher the labyrinth of buildings, shuttles, and cryptic acronyms like they were decoding ancient hieroglyphs. eventually, the group had to split, though not without groaning dramatically about the injustice of parting ways on their very first day.

jake and sunghoon, after much squinting and turning the map sideways for no apparent reason, had discovered they both needed to head north.

jake was assigned to the science complex—ominously named the helix research center—while sunghoon had to make his way to the monolithic fusion engineering complex, which honestly sounded more like a boss level in a video game than a school building.

meanwhile, jungwon, riki, and sunoo were bound for the south campus. jungwon had orientation at the arcadia studios—the heart of the architecture department. riki was heading to the grand horizon performing arts center, while sunoo was off to the silver screen studios, home to film and tv production students (and future dramatic monologues, no doubt).

the farewell was brief but not without flair. sunghoon and jake darted off to their own shuttle station with mock salutes and promises not to get lost or abducted by rogue professors. the remaining three made their way to the same shuttle bus station you and your friends had used earlier.

though fate had kept your paths from crossing that morning, something about the moment had tugged at jungwon—a peculiar sense of déjà vu, or maybe just the faintest echo of your voice from that first conversation you ever had. it hovered somewhere in the back of his mind, stubbornly refusing to take shape.

the shuttle ride was short, efficient, and surprisingly smooth and now, jungwon stood before the arcadia studios.

he didn’t enter right away.

instead, he lingered at the edge of the building’s shadow, tilting his head back to fully absorb the sight before him. the arcadia studios were a brutalist marvel—raw, unapologetic concrete rising like a fortress. but the roughness was softened by its tiers of lush greenery, terraces overflowing with vibrant plants that draped down the façade like ivy at an ancient castle. it was both cold and alive, severe yet poetic.

in his eyes, it wasn’t just a building.

it was a declaration. a promise that creativity didn’t have to be polished to be profound. and for jungwon, a budding architect with dreams too big for his own good, it was love at first sight.

he smiled softly to himself, the earlier tension melting away just a little. then, with one last breath of courage, he stepped through the wide doors and disappeared inside.

once everyone had disappeared into their respective buildings, the real whirlwind began.

orientations were in full swing. professors, sharp-dressed and bright-eyed (well, most of them), made their introductions—some warm and charismatic, others slightly robotic, as if they’d already rehearsed their welcome speeches one too many times over the years.

after a short talk, students were nudged into groups of ten for the ever-dreaded yet unavoidable “get-to-know-you” icebreakers.

each person took turns standing up, voice wavering or booming with overconfidence, depending on their personality. they shared their names, the courses they’d chosen, and why they had enrolled at grand horizon university.

the stories were a mix of heartfelt dreams, practical decisions, and the occasional joke that drew scattered chuckles. one guy said he only came here because the food in the cafeteria was ranked top ten in a blog he trusted religiously. no one knew if he was serious. he probably was.

some students spoke with ease, others visibly battled secondhand embarrassment for their peers, and a few simply tried to survive the social gauntlet without spontaneously combusting. it was a chaos of charm and awkwardness.

once the introductions settled down, the next phase began: the grand tour.

sleek shuttle buses lined up like in front of the buildings, waiting to tour the new students around the southern half of the campus. professors climbed aboard alongside their groups, and designated student guides took to the front, bright smiles plastered on as they reached for the intercoms.

the tour was fairly straightforward—an overview of each building as they passed, the guide pointing out massive lecture halls, pristine laboratories, sunlit studios, and confusingly named complexes.

each announcement was followed by students craning their necks to look out windows, snapping quick photos or scribbling down building names as if they'd remember which was which by tomorrow. they wouldn’t. no one ever does.

on your side of things, the tour had turned unexpectedly delightful. two students sitting near you had sparked up a conversation, and before you knew it, laughter flowed easily among you. you talked about your majors, your expectations, the panic of navigating an unfamiliar campus, and which professors looked like they've already prepared our downfall for fun.

your nerves slowly melted away into genuine enjoyment. there was something comforting about realizing everyone else was just as lost and excited as you were.

meanwhile, on another shuttle just a few buildings away, jungwon sat stiffly in his seat, listening to the tour guide’s voice drift through the bus. he nodded now and then, more out of politeness than curiosity, but his thoughts were elsewhere—spiraling.

something was gnawing at the edges of his mind. he couldn't shake that strange pull, the feeling that he'd forgotten something important. something—or someone.

then, as if fate had impeccable comedic timing, he turned his head toward the window.

and there you were.

riding a shuttle labeled ‘college of business and management complex’. chatting animatedly with the people beside you, smiling in that way that made things feel lighter.

his eyes widened as it hit him all at once.

bsba hrm. that’s what you said when you first met. that's your major. and now, here you were, in the south campus—his campus. so much for thinking he could spend the day dodging any accidental reunions. the universe had other plans.

“oh, i am so screwed,” he muttered under his breath, dragging out his map and promptly holding it up like a newspaper in a spy movie, trying to block his face from view even though you were clearly far too engrossed in your conversation to notice him. still, he wasn’t taking any chances.

he slumped deeper into his seat, sighing into his collar. maybe if he wished hard enough, he’d turn invisible. or teleport. either option sounded appealing.

once the orientation and tours wrapped up, you were quick to text your friends, fingers flying across the keyboard as you asked if they were finished and where they wanted to meet.

the replies came fast—chaewon, kazuha, and yunjin had wrapped up too, and without much debate, you all agreed on a place: the design & arts café tucked near the college of architecture, design, and planning.

it was quaint, cozy, and boasted drinks with pretentious names like “aesthetic matcha fog” and “monochrome americano.” you loved it.

coincidentally—though destiny might argue otherwise—jungwon, riki, and sunoo had just finished their own orientations and had exactly the same idea.

“design & arts café?” sunoo asked, scrolling through his phone.

“sounds good,” jungwon mumbled distractedly, still recovering from the earlier heart attack.

and so, completely unaware of each other’s plans, both groups set off toward the same charming café… one for coffee and comfort, and the other, unknowingly, toward a collision course with chaos—or maybe just an awkward reunion.

the four of you arrived at the café first, fortunate enough to beat the incoming tide of students that soon began trickling in, like drops before a storm. the design & arts café, with its warm amber lighting and soft hum of lo-fi music, was already halfway to overflowing.

its charm lay in the deliberate mess of creativity—sketches and prints hung on the walls, mismatched chairs that somehow worked together, and menus handwritten in chalk that made even the simplest drinks sound like a masterpiece.

yunjin and chaewon, ever the designated errand duo, volunteered to place everyone's orders, slipping away toward the counter with practiced ease. meanwhile, you and kazuha remained at the table, guarding everybody’s bags and phones, nestled in the quiet lull before the café reached peak chaos.

“good thing we got here earlier,” kazuha remarked, eyes drifting toward the growing line that now curved around the entrance.

you nodded, grateful for the lucky timing. while waiting, you and kazuha exchanged stories about your respective orientations and campus tours, comparing professors, the energy of your groupmates, and the many moments of near-miscommunication that left everyone either giggling or sweating.

just as you were imitating the overly dramatic voice of your tour guide, yunjin and chaewon returned, trays in hand and cheeks flushed from the heat and noise of the café.

“they said the food might take ten to fifteen minutes,” yunjin announced as she plopped down beside kazuha, setting the drinks on the table with theatrical flair.

chaewon took the spot next to you, carefully distributing napkins, straws, and drinks before handing the empty tray to a passing waiter. “thank you!” the four of you chimed in chorus.

“what were you guys chatting about?” chaewon asked, leaning slightly closer, curiosity evident in her eyes.

“just our orientations and the tour,” you replied, already sipping from your drink, the coldness cutting through the lingering warmth in the air.

“were they fun?” yunjin raised a brow, stirring her iced latte lazily.

you all nodded enthusiastically, breaking into a rapid-fire exchange of stories—mock reenactments, dramatic gasps, and exaggerated impressions of professors who clearly didn’t know how to use microphones.

laughter filled your little corner of the café, wrapping around you like a comforter. and then kazuha suddenly paused mid-laugh, eyes lighting up as if a forgotten memory had just barged its way back into her consciousness.

“oh right!” she said, waving her hand to corral everyone's attention. “something happened earlier.”

you looked up from your cheeseburger croissant, mid-bite. “what happened?”

kazuha leaned in a little, her tone dropping as if she were about to share a scandalous secret. “this guy came up to me and said he knew me—like, knew us. he asked what happened after the welcome party, when he helped us three back to our dorm.”

chaewon’s eyes widened in recognition. she gasped, slapped a hand over her mouth, then quickly chewed and swallowed whatever she'd been munching on before blurting out, “wait! the exact same thing happened to me!”

the table fell quiet in suspense as chaewon leaned in. “a cute guy—super polite—walked up and asked the same thing!”

“cute?” yunjin perked up, clearly invested now. “did they say their names?”

kazuha squinted in thought. “he said his name was… riki? or maybe kiki? something like that. honestly, i’m bad with names.”

chaewon giggled, nodding in solidarity. “mine said something like… sunoo? or soonoo? i think? he had great skin though.”

you blinked. “you guys are hopeless.”

kazuha, unfazed, twirled her fork through her carbonara. “i asked him how he even knew about us and he just smiled and said, ‘a friend of ours is a friend of yours.’ like—hello? what does that even mean?”

“that sounds like the start of a treasure hunt,” yunjin muttered, eyes narrowed. “or a mafia movie.”

you all laughed, tossing out theories as if you were detectives in a teen mystery drama. maybe they were undercover students. maybe it was a dare. maybe one of them was a secret admirer pulling the strings behind the scenes.

what none of you realized, however, was that not far from your table, just past the display case of pastries and behind a pair of oblivious art majors discussing something color related, stood jungwon, sunoo, and riki—utterly unaware of the conversation unfolding about them.

while riki and sunoo bickered over the menu—sunoo insisting on the blueberry muse tea, while riki claimed it sounded like a shampoo—jungwon stood a little apart, tuning out the noise of their playful quarrel.

the café was now a full-blown frenzy, packed with chattering students, baristas calling out names over the whirr of machines, and the occasional chair scrape that made everyone flinch for no reason at all.

jungwon sighed softly, the way someone does when they’ve just realized they're the only sane one in the group. he turned around, neck craning slightly as he scanned the room in search of an empty table. a small miracle: tucked near the corner, almost hidden, was a table clearly meant for four—but with one chair missing. three chairs. three of them. perfect.

just as he opened his mouth to share the discovery with the others, his words caught in his throat.

at the edge of his vision—soft, golden, unmistakably familiar—was you.

you were sitting with your friends, smile wide, laughter lighting up your features in a way that made the café’s dim lighting seem brighter for a second. jungwon froze. the kind of stillness that only happens when something—or someone—unexpected reappears.

he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped moving until a light tap on his shoulder brought him back to earth.

“jungwon, you okay?” sunoo asked, eyebrows raised in concern before following jungwon’s line of sight. and then, he smiled. “oh, is that chaewon? i think that’s chaewon.”

sunoo tried waving a little in her direction, although chaewon didn’t notice—too absorbed in peeling the lid off her drink. jungwon blinked rapidly and looked away, but not before sunoo had seen enough to realize this wasn’t about chaewon, it was about the girl sitting beside her.

“what are you two doing?” riki called out from the front, motioning to them to move up in the line. “we’re holding people up.”

“we saw someone we know,” sunoo explained as he fell in beside riki. “chaewon’s here, in the café. she’s in my major too.”

“oh yeah,” riki said, recognition dawning. “i think i met one of her friends too—kazuha, i think? she’s also in performing arts.”

they shuffled forward in line, but jungwon lingered behind, staring at the floor like it had just whispered his deepest secret aloud.

“guys,” jungwon said, voice low, “can we… maybe go to a different café?”

sunoo and riki turned to him, nearly in unison. “huh? why?”

“i mean,” he started, a little too quickly, “i just thought maybe we could eat near the north campus instead? maybe link up with sunghoon and jake? it might be less crowded too.”

riki and sunoo exchanged a look—half confusion, half telepathic best friend conversation. they could see it: the slight panic in jungwon’s eyes, the nervous clench of his jaw. something was up.

but they didn’t press.

“sure, man,” riki said with a shrug, stepping out of the line as if they hadn’t just spent fifteen minutes arguing over drinks.

sunoo smiled gently, falling in behind him. “that’s a great idea, actually. i’ll text sunghoon—see where they’re eating.”

jungwon exhaled, the relief immediate and visible in his shoulders. he trailed after them, grateful, fingers twitching with the anxious energy he hadn't managed to shake off since seeing you.

as they exited the café, the soft ding of the doorbell signaling their departure, jungwon allowed himself one last glance over his shoulder.

you were still there, surrounded by laughter, unaware of the ripple you’d sent through him.

he looked away and sighed, the sound quiet but heavy, and walked out into the sunlit afternoon, where his friends were already waiting.

as soon as they received the location from sunghoon and jake, the three made their way to the stem fuel stop, a modern, industrial-style café nestled just outside the college of science and mathematics complex.

the walls were covered in chalkboard doodles and formulas no one actually read, while the smell of roasted coffee beans and sizzling fries hung comfortably in the air.

they walked in, instantly greeted by jake’s enthusiastic wave from across the room. he was already seated at a corner table, mid-bite, with a tray of fries between him and sunghoon, who looked up from his phone looking like he just aged five academic years.

“there you guys are,” jake grinned, mouth half-full, before popping another fry into his mouth.

sunghoon gave them a small nod, setting his phone down slowly, eyes shifting to jungwon, who hadn’t said a word since entering.

they took their seats—sunoo on one end, riki beside him, and jungwon in the middle, visibly tense. sunoo and riki exchanged a glance before both quietly turned their attention to jungwon, brows slightly raised.

“so… what gives?” jake asked, licking salt off his fingers. “thought you were all eating at the design & arts café?”

“we were supposed to,” riki replied casually, reaching for a fry. “but it was already packed when we got there, and jungwon suggested we head here instead.”

his voice was nonchalant, but the way he tilted his head toward jungwon didn’t go unnoticed. jake and sunghoon caught it immediately, their gazes now fixed on the boy in question.

“okay,” sunoo began, arms crossed, leaning in a little. “jungwon. spill.”

jungwon let out a sigh so deep, it seemed to come from the soles of his feet. he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to meet four sets of expectant eyes. and so, with the weight of an overly dramatic confession pressing on his chest, he told them everything.

he began with that night—the aftermath of the architecture welcoming party. how he’d offered to take you back to your apartment, just trying to be polite and helpful. everything was fine... until it wasn’t.

“i swear, she just stopped in the kitchen,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “and then she cupped my cheeks. my actual face.”

riki choked on a sip of soda. “no way—”

“yes way,” jungwon groaned. “and before i could even process what was happening, she just—started kissing me. on the face. like how she kissed my cat. repeatedly. with affection. so much affection.”

sunghoon blinked. “you got yami’d.”

“i got ambushed,” jungwon clarified, looking pained. “i didn’t even have time to run.”

his friends looked equally horrified and amused, already piecing the chaos together.

he went on to explain that ever since that night, he'd tried to maintain distance—create space. but you always showed up. in places he least expected. like some kind of charming poltergeist with perfect comedic timing.

then came this morning’s catastrophe.

“remember earlier,” he added, shifting uncomfortably, “when you caught me hiding behind a wall just a street away from my apartment building looking like i saw a ghost?”

sunoo nodded slowly. “we thought you were being dramatic.”

“yeah, well, the ghost was her.”

the table burst into quiet laughter, and jungwon rolled his eyes before continuing.

“i just stepped into the elevator,” jungwon said, leaning forward with an exasperated whisper, “and then she just—turned the corner. like it was a horror movie. i panicked. froze. and let the elevator doors close right in front of her.”

the entire table groaned in unison, hands flying up as if trying to physically catch the level of secondhand embarrassment in the air.

“oh my god, you didn’t,” sunoo winced, clutching his chest.

“i did,” jungwon sighed, defeated. “and of course, she was already behind me before i could go outside the building. called my name. asked me what just happened. i panicked again and said—” he paused, covering his face. “the most ridiculous excuse ever.”

“what did you say?” jake asked, eyes wide.

“i said ‘i misjudged! i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!’” he said and groaned.

they all stared at him before groaning, basically saying ‘what the hell man?’

“i know!” jungwon snapped. “and she called me out immediately. saying, ‘i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.’”

sunghoon shook his head, biting back a smile. “and then?”

“i did what any respectable man would do,” jungwon mumbled. “i gave her the puppy eyes. apologized. and then ran the second i saw her hesitate.”

a silence fell over the table.

then: laughter. loud, unforgiving laughter.

jake slapped the table. sunoo buried his face in his hands. riki leaned back like he was about to fall off his chair, while sunghoon just shook his head, muttering something about how this was better than any tv show.

“okay, but real talk,” sunoo said once the laughter settled. “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair? you’re avoiding her like she did something wrong, but she has no idea what that is.”

the others nodded slowly, their amusement now replaced with a kind of thoughtful concern.

jungwon let his head fall back against the chair, eyes staring up at the ceiling as if searching for divine intervention.

“i don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “i thought... ignoring her would be easier than explaining everything. i just didn’t want to deal with it.”

“look,” riki said, tone more serious now, “we get it. but just tell us what you want to do. whatever it is, we’ve got your back.”

jungwon sat up, looking around at the four boys who had somehow become his emotional support team. he smiled faintly, the knot in his chest loosening a little.

“she’s a business ad major,” he said. “her classes are in the south campus. there’s a real chance i’ll run into her again, and... i’m not ready for that. not yet.”

“then that’s what we’ll do,” sunoo said simply, clapping his hands once. “operation: avoid the girl who kisses like she’s greeting a house pet is a go.”

they all agreed with a chorus of nods, their expressions varying from concerned to playfully dramatic.

jungwon smiled genuinely this time, the kind of small, grateful smile you give when you feel seen—even if you’ve made a mess of things.

“thanks, guys,” he muttered.

they all smiled in return, and just like that, the conversation shifted. no more drama, no more awkward elevator encounters—at least not for now. they moved on to safer territory: their orientations, campus tours, the professors they’d met, and the weirdly aggressive squirrel sunghoon swore chased him near the library.

for now, all was calm. or at least, calm enough.

once the last bites of lunch had been savored and the cafés began to quiet, the university crowd began to drift toward a new destination: horizon square.

nestled at the very heart of grand horizon university—between the bustling north campus and the vibrant south—it stood as a kind of living crossroads, a wide-open plaza pulsing with student life. its sprawling walkways were paved with stone in geometric patterns, bordered by stretches of manicured lawn and punctuated with fountains that danced softly under the afternoon sun.

shuttle buses lined the curb like a mechanical parade and near the square's edges, street food stalls sizzled and smoked, perfuming the air with the smell of grilled meat, buttery pastries, and something sweetly unidentifiable.

this was the university's beating heart, and today, it was dressed for an occasion.

dozens of vibrant club stalls had taken over the square—each one boasting colorful tarps, makeshift banners, and enthusiastic upperclassmen who were equal parts persuasive and unhinged. this was club day, and at grand horizon university, it wasn’t just tradition—it was a requirement. every student had to join at least one club, a law more binding than some course requirement.

you stood with your friends at the edge of the square, bright pamphlets in your hands. it had been handed to you by a particularly energetic senior who’d practically stuffed it into your chest mid-walk. the paper listed every club on campus—from the usuals like student government and photography to more obscure options like the “modern escapists book society” and the suspiciously vague “club club.”

yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon had already circled their picks with the decisiveness of people ordering dessert after a good meal. you, however, stared at the list like it was written in another language.

“you okay?” chaewon asked, peeking over your shoulder as you flipped the pamphlet upside down, hoping it would spark inspiration.

“honestly?” you sighed. “none of them are calling out to me. i don’t want to just pick one because it sounds cool and end up trapped in a weekly horror show of forced interactions.”

“too late,” yunjin quipped, nudging you playfully. “that’s called college.”

she had already chosen to join the design society, which made perfect sense—she had the aesthetic sense of a pinterest board and the confidence to back it up. kazuha, on the other hand, had naturally gravitated toward the grand horizon dance company, drawn in by the familiar rhythm and stage lights. and chaewon? she surprised no one by going for the film & tv production society—if anyone was made for dramatic camera pans and chaotic editing rooms, it was her.

you admired their certainty as much as you envied it.

“i think i’ll just walk around,” you finally said, eyes scanning the lively square. “i want to see if any of these clubs actually speak to me. like, soul-to-soul.”

“sure,” kazuha smiled. “we’ll just see you at aurora hall when we’re done?”

“deal,” you nodded.

with that, the four of you drifted apart, each pulled in a different direction by color, curiosity, or convenience. the square buzzed around you like a beehive—music blasting from bluetooth speakers, laughter echoing, students juggling flyers and iced coffees, shouting over one another in a chorus of invitations.

and somewhere among that cheerful chaos, you were hoping to find your place.

or at least a club booth that didn't have glitter in the air and desperate energy in the eyes.

somewhere near the heart of horizon square—surrounded by the hum of voices, the rustling of pamphlets, and the occasional clang of a tambourine from a wildly enthusiastic music club—stood jungwon and his group, each of them absorbed in their own glossy paper map of campus club life.

the pamphlets were colorful, almost aggressively so, each one a collage of ambition and chaos. every square inch was crammed with names, taglines, and wildly optimistic descriptions. jungwon’s friends were already forming their personal paths, choices made with the kind of ease that made jungwon’s indecision feel a little louder in his own chest.

“alright, let’s split up and sign up,” sunoo declared, already folding his pamphlet like a seasoned origami artist.

“creative writers’ forum, here i come,” he added with a proud twirl, like he’d just been cast in a play.

riki, unsurprisingly, had set his eyes—and rhythm—on the grand horizon dance company. he gave a little spin for dramatic flair, earning a thumbs-up from sunoo and a head shake from jungwon.

“we get it,” sunoo deadpanned. “you’ve got moves.”

“can’t waste this talent,” riki replied, flipping imaginary hair as he walked off.

jake, meanwhile, had found unexpected excitement in the biology enthusiasts club. something about their tagline—“where science meets obsession”—spoke to the budding lab rat in him.

sunghoon stood frozen, his pamphlet flapping lazily in the breeze. “i... don’t want anything that screams ‘engineering.’ i’m traumatized already and school hasn't officially started yet.”

“so just do something chill,” jake shrugged.

and with that, sunghoon chose the chill spot: a club that promised board games, snacks, naps, and zero productivity. the dream. the sanctuary. his people.

but jungwon remained where he stood, pamphlet still unfolded in his hands like a riddle waiting to be solved. while the others peeled off one by one, he found himself flipping pages and rereading club descriptions with growing restlessness as he walked aimlessly.

he wanted something... more. something honest. something that would let his creativity breathe.

and then he heard it—a very familiar voice. a voice he would never forget.

“would you like to join our club?”

the voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to cut through the noise. jungwon glanced up, heart skipping in recognition. there, behind one of the stalls, stood someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“jay?”

he didn’t even realize his feet had started moving until he was already crossing the short distance, smiling wide, pamphlet forgotten.

the man behind the stall blinked, scanning the crowd for the voice. then, spotting jungwon, his eyes lit up. a grin cracked across his face as he stepped out from behind the table.

“bro! what are you doing here?” jay exclaimed, clasping both hands on jungwon’s shoulders like he was trying to confirm he was real.

jungwon chuckled, brushing his hands away and dapping him up. “what do you think i’m doing here? obviously pursuing higher education because my parents say it's ‘necessary’.”

“classic,” jay laughed. “same old jungwon.”

he gestured toward the stall, ushering him over like he was welcoming a guest into his home. jungwon followed, sinking into the offered chair with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“how’ve you been?” jay asked, leaning against the table. “how are sunoo and riki?”

“i'm good and sunoo and riki are actually here too,” jungwon said, lighting up. “we all got in. they’re off somewhere now, signing up to the clubs they wanna join.”

“no way,” jay said with mock disbelief. “the gang’s all here? man, time really does fly. one second we’re cramming for high school finals, the next we’re at the gates of adulthood, pretending to have it all together.”

jungwon laughed quietly, nodding. “yeah. wild.”

jay had always been like an older brother to them—cool without trying, always knowing just what to say. back in high school, he was the one they ran to when things got too loud or too confusing. even now, just seeing him eased a weight jungwon hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.

“so,” jay said, crossing his arms, “have you picked a club yet?”

jungwon hesitated. “not yet. i’ve been looking for something... art-related, maybe. i’m not really confident in my skills, but i know i have decent skills. i just don’t think it’s enough.”

jay hummed thoughtfully and, without missing a beat, took jungwon’s crumpled pamphlet right out of his hands.

“let’s find it, then,” he said, scanning the list like a detective about to crack a case. “you’ve got good instincts. we just need to find the right space to grow them.”

and in that moment, jungwon didn’t feel so lost anymore.

“how about the art & sketch society?” jay offered, handing the pamphlet back to jungwon with a confident flick of his fingers. “focuses on drawing, sketching, all that creative jazz. sounds like it’s right up your alley.”

jungwon blinked, unfolding the slightly crumpled pamphlet with renewed interest, eyes scanning the maze of club names and descriptions. “where did you even see that? how did i miss it?”

jay leaned over with the air of a man who’s done this far too many times, pointing to a modest little box near the bottom corner of the page. “right here. you need better eyesight, man.”

jungwon rolled his eyes but chuckled, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “what would i do without you?”

“probably join something tragic or something that requires anything physical like taekwondo,” jay said with mock solemnity.

jungwon snorted.

“actually,” jay added, a little more seriously, “i was gonna ask if you wanted to join our club. but, uh, figured it might not be your thing.”

he handed over a smaller, more personalized flyer—clearly homemade, slightly chaotic in design, and deeply proud of it.

jungwon read the name aloud, brow furrowed. “the... multi-maybe club?”

jay grinned. “we call ourselves the m-and-m’s. the m-m club, if you will.”

jungwon looked up, deeply confused and deeply amused. “what do you even do in a multi-maybe club?”

jay’s grin widened. “maybe everything. maybe nothing. maybe you paint a wall. maybe you'll nap under a tree. it’s a lawless land, my friend.”

jungwon burst into laughter, the kind that bent him slightly at the waist and made him cover his face for a second. jay stood back with a smile, watching fondly like an older brother watching his favorite sibling crack up at a dumb joke.

“dude,” jungwon said through the laughter, wiping at his eyes, “you just made my whole day.”

“glad to be of service,” jay replied, giving a mock bow.

as jungwon tried to catch his breath, he remembered something. “sunoo and riki need to know you’re here. they’d lose their minds. you free later?”

jay looked down at his wrist, as if checking a watch that didn’t exist. “hmm... maybe i have time.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow.

“okay, okay,” jay laughed. “i’m free. just gotta find one more person to sign up for our club, and then i can pack this whole thing up.”

he stood up straight, brushing invisible dust off his pants, and jungwon mirrored him.

“we’re all meeting at the stem fuel stop later, after everyone’s done signing up,” jungwon said, slowly backing away. “also, we met two new people—you’re gonna love them. they’re... something else.”

“perfect. i’m bringing someone too. you’ll love him,” jay replied, raising a hand in a casual wave as jungwon turned.

“see you later, m&m,” jungwon called over his shoulder with a smirk.

“go find your sketch society, art boy,” jay shot back, laughing.

with one last grin, jungwon disappeared into the crowd, pamphlet in hand, his steps a little lighter now as he searched for the art & sketch society’s stall.

you, on the other hand, were still wandering—admittedly a little lost and, at this point, thoroughly over the parade of pamphlets being thrust in your face.

upperclassmen lined the plaza like cheerful merchants at a bizarre bazaar, each one passionately marketing their clubs as if their lives depended on it. from anime appreciation societies to eco-sustainability coalitions, everyone seemed to have something to pitch. and yet, nothing called out to you.

you smiled politely, declining brochure after brochure with a soft “no, thank you,” until your feet—bored of your indecision—guided you toward a rather peculiar-looking stall.

its banner was simple yet striking: two large block letters—M M—hung above, bold and cryptic. beneath the sign, in slightly chaotic handwriting, read: the multi-maybe club.

you tilted your head. multi-maybe?

it sounded like the kind of club that didn't quite know what it wanted to be. a filler club, perhaps. the type students joined just to finish a university requirement. and yet... there was something oddly magnetic about it. as if those two bold letters were speaking directly to your soul in a silent language only lost, curious freshmen could understand.

drawn in by either fate or mild existential curiosity, you approached.

the guy behind the table was currently mid-conversation with another student, his animated gestures suggesting a practiced pitch. but then his gaze shifted and locked onto you.

“oh—hi there! are you interested in joining our club?” he greeted warmly, already reaching for a flyer. he handed it to you with both hands, like it was something sacred.

you glanced down at the handmade paper. bold scribbles, doodled stars, and a questionable amount of glitter glue outlined the text:

‘welcome to the multi-maybe club! where you can do everything... or nothing. your multiple maybes? might just happen here—or maybe not. it's your choice!’

he flashed a grin and pointed proudly at the sign above his head. “we're all about possibilities,” he said. “maximum freedom. minimal expectations.”

you looked at him, then at the sign, then back at the flyer.

“…where do i sign up?” you asked, surprising even yourself with how fast the words came out.

the guy's smile spread even wider, his eyes practically lighting up. “you just made the best maybe-decision of your life, miss..?” he declared, handing you a clipboard with a list of names. without hesitation, you wrote down your name, your major, and scribbled your signature at the bottom.

“y/n,” you said. “just call me y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated with a nod, committing it to memory. “nice to meet you. i’m jay—vice president of the m-m club. our president’s off being a busy graduating senior, but she exists. i promise.”

you chuckled, handing back the clipboard.

jay reached under the table and pulled out a more official-looking pamphlet—actually printed, this time. “here’s our schedule, basic club info, building details. you’ll mostly find us in the lucent library next to aurora hall. the librarian kinda loves us. mostly because we either do absolutely nothing or occasionally help re-shelve books. it’s a vibe.”

you scanned the paper, trying not to laugh at how absurdly laid-back the club seemed. still, it felt oddly right.

“thanks, jay,” you said, tucking the brochure into your tote bag. “see you around.”

“yep, see you around,” he replied, giving you a small wave as you turned to leave.

as you walked away, your thoughts drifted. ‘did i really just join a filler club?’ you shook your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you slid the flyer into your bag, tucked just beside the brochure.

but strangely enough, you felt something warm bubble in your chest.

excitement.

not the wild, overwhelming kind—but a quiet, budding curiosity.

as soon as you managed to escape the buzz of horizon square—dodging the last wave of overly enthusiastic club recruiters—you finally spotted your friends. they were gathered on the broad stone steps leading to aurora hall, their silhouettes bathed in the golden hue of the afternoon light.

you waved both arms above your head as you jogged toward them, the crowd now thinning as students slowly trickled out of the plaza. some were heading home, others drifting into the campus cafés, tucked-away eateries, or lingering in the comfort of air-conditioned student lounges.

yunjin noticed you first. she raised a can of diet coke in the air like a sacred offering, her expression amused. you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle—she knew you too well.

you reached them with slightly breathless laughter and dropped yourself between chaewon and kazuha, letting your weight sink into the cool steps. yunjin was perched two steps above you, and with no hesitation, you leaned back so your head could rest comfortably on her thigh. she handed you the drink without a word.

“bless your soul,” you mumbled with a grateful smile as you cracked the can open and took a generous sip. the fizzy sweetness coated your tongue, and you exhaled with an exaggerated, refreshed sigh. without a second thought, you leaned back further, letting your body melt against yunjin’s warmth as she absentmindedly played with your hair.

“should we go home now?” she murmured lazily, fingers threading through your strands.

the word home struck like a silent spell.

no one answered immediately. instead, all four of you sank into an almost meditative silence. just the thought of soft pillows, cool sheets, and the sweet hum of an air conditioner was enough to temporarily sedate you all.

you each had things to prepare for tomorrow—yes, technically syllabus week, but the illusion of leisure was already wearing thin. there were class schedules to memorize, supplies to organize, nerves to settle.

after several long, deliciously quiet moments, as if perfectly choreographed, you all nodded slowly and muttered a collective, almost reverent: “yep.”

no further discussion was needed. you stood together, heavy-footed and slow-moving, like four survivors of a mild but exhausting war.

“we should head back and recharge,” you said, walking in step with them. “we’ve only got one week to mentally brace ourselves for whatever academic avalanche awaits.”

“and we find out our schedules tomorrow,” kazuha added with a groan, already opening her phone to book a ride. “can’t wait to see if fate puts me in an 7a.m. class in the first semester.”

“tell me about it.” yunjin grumbled.

chaewon simply sighed like she’d already accepted her impending doom.

you booked your own ride and the four of you migrated to the waiting shed just by the university’s gate. the air was beginning to cool as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows along the sidewalk.

your uber arrived first.

you gave each of your friends quick hugs and soft cheek kisses—half-hearted from tiredness but no less sincere.

“text us when you get home,” chaewon reminded you just as you slid one foot into the car.

you gave her a lazy thumbs-up before disappearing behind the door and letting it close with a soft thud.

the ride home was quiet. your head leaned against the window, and the city outside blurred into pastel streaks as exhaustion settled in your bones. by the time you arrived at your apartment, you barely had the energy to thank your driver.

the moment the door shut behind you, you kicked off your shoes and peeled away the layers of your day until you were down to nothing but your underwear and bra. with a long exhale, you padded barefoot across the floor and into your bedroom, phone in hand.

a few quick texts were sent—first to your group chat: ‘home safe’, then to your parents, followed by a small heart emoji. you dropped your phone onto the bed with a soft thump and made your way to your closet, grabbing a change of clothes.

the shower was bliss. warm water cascading down your skin like a gentle reset, washing away the sweat, the noise, and the weight of navigating new beginnings.

after drying your hair and pulling on fresh clothes, you collapsed onto your bed. the mattress embraced you like an old friend. the pillow welcomed your head like it had been waiting all day.

you meant to grab your phone again.

you meant to check messages, maybe scroll a little.

but your body had other plans.

within minutes, your breathing slowed, thoughts blurred, and sleep took you—soft and soundless.

meanwhile, tucked into a corner booth at the stem fuel stop, jungwon and his group were in a state of quiet suspense—well, most of them were. jake and sunghoon were entirely absorbed in their own little worlds, multitasking between snacking and scrolling through their phones, while sunoo and riki eyed jungwon like he’d grown a second head.

“won,” sunoo said, voice laced with suspicion and a bit of exasperation, “can you please tell us why we’re still here? i thought we were just gonna meet up, take a break, maybe grab some food. but you’re not even eating. you’re just… smiling at the window.”

sunoo gestured dramatically toward jungwon, who was indeed sitting there with the faintest, most serene smile on his face. every time the café door swung open, his head would subtly turn, eyes lighting up with anticipation. it was getting weird.

“just trust me,” jungwon said, practically glowing with mystery. “you’ll be surprised. and happy. very, very soon.”

sunoo narrowed his eyes but leaned back in his seat with a long sigh, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “i swear… him and his mood swings.”

riki raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward sunoo, silently mouthing, ‘what’s up with him now?’

sunoo just shrugged, the universal response for ‘no clue, don’t ask me.’

riki glanced at the clock. “he sure is taking his sweet time,” he muttered under his breath, peering down at his phone, clearly considering whether this whole setup was worth the wait.sunoo shot him a look that said ‘tell me about it’, when—

“i see you two are still as impatient as ever.”

a familiar voice, smooth and teasing, landed behind them, a head popping from behind them and a hand gently pressed down on both their shoulders, startling the two boys upright.

they twisted in their seats, eyes wide.

“jay?!” they both gasped in unison, voices laced with disbelief, joy, and the slightest touch of betrayal—how dare he sneak up on them like that?

sunoo shot up from his seat and threw his arms around jay’s neck like he was making up for lost time. riki was still half in shock, but his body moved on instinct, arms wrapping tightly around jay’s waist.

“woah—hey—okay, this is happening,” jay laughed, slightly thrown off balance by the ambush hug, his arms eventually resting around both their heads, gently ruffling their hair like he used to.

jungwon, still seated and watching the scene unfold, burst into a quiet laugh. there was something so warm, so stupidly precious, about seeing his friends melt like kids at a surprise reunion.

“did you guys miss me that much?” jay teased, smiling as he tried to wiggle free from their emotional death grip.

sunoo and riki both nodded emphatically, faces buried in opposite ends of jay’s shoulder and torso.

jay chuckled, “you do realize it’s only been two years, right? not a whole lifetime.”

sunoo and riki pulled back just far enough to glare up at him, eyes narrowed.

“that is a lifetime,” they chorused indignantly, as if he’d just said something blasphemous.

jay held up his hands in surrender, laughing again. “okay, okay. two years is forever. my bad.”

he patted their heads again, endearingly like an older brother humoring two very dramatic younger siblings. “now, can i sit? or do i need to earn that too?”

sunoo finally slid back into his seat with an exaggerated sigh, while riki made room on the other side. jay sat between them, comfortably wedged in the heart of the group once again—like he’d never left.

“umm, guys?” jake’s voice sliced gently through the warmth of the reunion. it was the kind of voice people used when they were trying not to intrude but also couldn’t ignore the rising curiosity bubbling inside them. his hand hovered mid-air like a student with a question—half-hopeful, half-hesitant.

he and sunghoon had been sitting quietly, mere spectators to the emotional reunion unfolding in front of them. they didn’t want to interrupt something that was clearly meaningful, but the urge to be part of it was beginning to hum louder deep inside them.

besides, judging by the way riki and sunoo lit up at the sight of jay, this wasn’t just a casual catch-up—this was the friend reunion. and they wanted in.

“are you gonna introduce us,” jake said, tilting his head, “or should we just keep watching from the audience section?”

jay chuckled, the sound low and familiar, like laughter shared in hallways and cafeterias. he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry, sorry. name’s jay. i’ve been friends with these three since high school. i’m a third year here at grand horizon—marketing major, occasional chaos enabler.”

he reached out to shake their hands.

“jake,” the boy said with a bright smile, “biology major. aspiring mad scientist.”

“sunghoon,” the other said smoothly. “engineering. part-time realist, full-time eye-roller.”

jay grinned as he shook both their hands. “i like this group already.”

“how’d you all meet, anyway?” he asked, looking around as he settled into the seat like he belonged there.

sunoo, ever ready to explain, perked up. “sunghoon’s my dorm mate, jake’s with riki, and we kinda just... adopted jungwon last month. it was very wholesome.”

“like a stray cat,” jake added helpfully.

jungwon made a face. “i’m right here, you know.”

“we know,” riki said, patting his head.

jay laughed, then, without missing a beat, leaned over and stole a fry from jake’s plate with the grace of someone who had clearly done this before.

“did you just—?”

“i did,” jay confirmed mid-chew, grinning. “anyway, it’s great to meet you guys. you’re gonna love it here, i promise. oh—and i’ve got a friend coming. he should be here any minute.”

as if on cue, the bell above the café door gave a soft chime, announcing the arrival of someone new.

and then—he walked in.

a young man with striking red hair, not the playful kind, but the bold, unapologetic shade of red that demanded attention the moment he entered a room. his presence was immediate—subtle, but undeniable.

he wore a black tank top tucked effortlessly into dark gray, high-waisted trousers tailored to perfection. they cinched his waist and flowed down with structured elegance, every step a study in confidence. layered loosely over his frame was a glossy black leather button-up long sleeve shirt, worn open, the material catching the light with each movement like a ripple of shadow.

a thin, silver chain with a cross pendant rested against his collarbone, glinting faintly. tiny silver hoops adorned his ears, understated yet intentional. and slung diagonally across his torso was a sleek black crossbody bag, the strap sitting snug over his chest, completing the look with quiet precision.

he didn’t look around frantically. instead, his eyes swept the café with the calm disinterest of someone who had no need to search—only to be found.

he looked cool—effortlessly so. intimidating, even. the kind of person who didn’t need to try hard to stand out. he just did.

all five of them froze, except for jay. the kind of freeze that wasn’t fear, but awe. they weren’t sure whether to hope this was jay’s friend or pray it wasn’t—because if it was, they were suddenly not sure they were dressed well enough for this sudden meet up.

jay raised his arm and called out with a wide smile. “yo! heeseung, over here!”

the red-haired man—heeseung—glanced over. a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, quiet but genuine. and then he moved, heading toward them with long, unhurried strides, each step measured and magnetic.

“wait... that’s his friend?” sunoo whispered, eyes wide.

riki nodded slowly, voice distant. “he looks like a runway model who just woke up and decided to casually destroy everyone’s self-esteem.”

“and somehow he looks even taller in person,” jungwon muttered, blinking.

“i'm probably taller,” riki tried saving his self-esteem even though he wasn't sure if it was actually working.

jay was already stylish—sharp jawline, good taste, an air of familiarity. but heeseung? he walked in like a scene from a movie. red hair, glowing skin, dressed like a secret. he didn’t blend in. he redefined the space around him.

even jungwon, who had his own soft kind of charm with tousled blonde hair and a boyish smile, felt like a background character.

heeseung approached the table with the quiet composure of someone used to eyes following him—unbothered, but never arrogant. like the world always adjusted itself slightly to make room for him.

he walked past everyone at the table, his pace unhurried, presence effortlessly commanding. but instead of acknowledging the wide-eyed stares or curious glances sent his way, he went straight to jay, greeting him with a casual dap that spoke of years of shared moments and easy trust.

after the brief gesture, heeseung’s gaze swept across the table, his lips tugging into a soft, almost bashful smile. it was surprising, really—how someone who looked like a living editorial spread from a fashion magazine could also look so... shy.

he leaned closer to jay, his voice low. “umm, do i have to introduce myself first?”

a second ago, he had seemed untouchable—cool, collected, almost intimidating. now, he resembled a new kid in class, unsure where to begin.

jay chuckled, amused by the contrast, and gave heeseung a light pat on the back. “just sit down and start talking,” he whispered, then gently nudged him toward the only empty chair—right beside jungwon. heeseung blinked, then allowed himself to be pushed down into the seat like a confused but obedient hamster.

“oh, okay,” he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat and addressed the table. “hi, umm... i’m heeseung. a friend of jay’s. third year. music composition major. we’ve also been in the same club since first year.” he nodded once, firmly, as if that sealed the deal on his introduction.

there was a beat of silence before everyone else began introducing themselves, one after the other.

first came jungwon, polite and reserved. then sunoo, bright and curious. riki chimed in with a charming smile, followed by jake, who had the enthusiasm of a golden retriever discovering a new friend. sunghoon went last, cool and composed, giving a small nod as if he were in a press conference.

the energy was a little awkward, but thankfully, everyone seemed willing to push past that initial stiffness. questions began to float into the air, light and genuine.

riki leaned forward first, his tone friendly. “so, how’d you and jay meet?”

heeseung let out a short laugh, the memory lighting up his face. “we met on the first day of uni, actually. both of us were at horizon square, just wandering around trying to figure out what club to join. then we ended up standing in front of this one weird stall that had two massive m’s on the sign. the multi-maybe club. weird name, right?”

the group chuckled.

“anyway, jay started talking to me out of nowhere—just asking random things like what my major was, what music i liked, what my blood type was. totally normal stuff.” heeseung grinned. “we didn’t know anyone at the time, so it was honestly nice he didn’t just leave after signing up. after that, we kept in touch. we’d study in the library together, eat lunch during breaks... even though we’re in different majors, he kind of just stuck around. and yeah, he’s basically the only real friend i’ve had here.”

jay, listening with an increasingly dramatic expression, slowly placed both hands over his heart like a victorian lady hearing a love confession.

“awww,” jay gasped. “i’m your only real friend?”

he reached out theatrically for heeseung’s hand, his eyes brimming with fake tears.

without even blinking, heeseung rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away—then flipped jay off with a casual flick of his middle finger.

the entire table erupted into laughter.

“well,” heeseung added with a playful smirk, “i’m actually hoping to change that by meeting all of you.”

jay clutched his chest as if he'd been shot. “and just like that, replaced. i should’ve let you eat alone.”

more laughter followed, the kind that comes when tension melts away and something genuine settles in its place. the group was still new to each other, but it no longer felt like strangers trying too hard. it felt like the beginning of something that might just be real.

the conversation continued to flow—light, casual, but slowly unraveling layers. they asked about each other's lives, traded stories of high school mischief, swapped sports preferences, and shared scattered facts with the kind of curiosity only new friendships carry. it was a soft chaos of voices, laughter, and the occasional gasp at unexpected confessions.

then, as if sensing a lull in the momentum, jay leaned forward and tilted his head toward jungwon.

“so,” he said with a glint in his eye, “anything new with you, jungwon?”

jungwon blinked, caught off guard. his mouth opened slightly, ready to reply—but sunoo beat him to it with a mischievous grin.

“he has a girl problem right now,” sunoo said in a sing-song tone, and jay’s expression lit up like a proud older brother watching his kid finally enter the dating world.

“what? finally?” jay laughed, eyebrows raised in delight.

jungwon’s ears turned an unmistakable shade of pink, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he let out an awkward chuckle. “it’s not a problem, she’s not a problem,” he said, shaking his head, clearly hoping to steer the topic elsewhere—anywhere, really.

but riki leaned in dramatically, eyes wide with faux shock. “ohhh, he’s defending her now? this is new.”

sunoo, never one to let a moment slip, immediately mimicked jungwon’s earlier voice. “she’s not a problem,” he repeated with exaggerated sincerity, clasping his hands to his chest like he was quoting poetry.

jay looked amused, borderline delighted, as he leaned closer. “okay, now i have to know. what happened?”

heeseung, who had been quietly sipping his drink and observing, now perked up as well. his eyes, already large, seemed to double in size, gleaming with pure curiosity. “i’m curious too.”

jungwon groaned, realizing escape was futile. “nothing happened,” he muttered. “let’s just say... i’m trying to avoid her. that’s it. end of story.”

he looked around the table, firm and resolute, like a man putting up caution tape around his heart.

everyone exchanged glances but decided—for now—to let it go. jay, however, had other plans.

with the stealth of someone used to scheming, he leaned toward sunoo and gave the slightest nod. sunoo caught it instantly.

sunoo sighed, already resigning himself to being the group's designated informant. jay then flicked his gaze toward heeseung and gave a small head gesture toward sunoo. heeseung, catching on, turned to sunoo as well. sunoo nodded once, a solemn confirmation.

a pact had been made. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm later. mission: dig up all the tea.

it might’ve been a spontaneous plan, but in their group, that was more than enough. jay and heeseung were already honorary members. the invitation was unspoken but entirely valid. all they had to do was wait for jungwon to finally go home.

as if on cue, the topic changed, drifting into safer territory—about the orientation and tour earlier and old campus drama when jay and heeseung were first and second year. the sky outside had deepened into shades of evening, and before long, it was time to go.

the group slowly rose from their seats, gathering their things, still chatting as they made their way out of the café. they lingered at the front gate of the university, waiting under a waiting shed for their ubers to arrive.

jungwon’s car was the first to pull up.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said casually, waving as he climbed into the vehicle.

“bye!” the group chorused.

“message us when you get home,” sunoo followed up as jungwon hops inside the car.

but the second the car door shut and his ride rolled away down the street, the rest of them turned toward each other with the same look.

it was time.

no one needed to say it. it was understood. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm, and tonight, they would unearth the full story behind jungwon’s ‘she’s not a problem’ girl.

jake and riki, a bit late to realize what was happening, exchanged glances.

“wait—are we going too?” jake asked.

“you are now,” sunoo said, already walking ahead.

riki shrugged. “well, i do know the whole story…”

“perfect,” jay grinned. “you’re coming. we need to know every detail.”

and with that, the group disappeared into the night, drawn together not just by friendship, but by the irresistible pull of juicy gossip waiting to be spilled behind dorm room walls.

taglist⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀ @morganaawriterr @wondoras @mypolka @meowwwon @dolliehue @in-somnias-world @yjwonsgf @kirijuns @iifrui @momisanalien @vieniee @drunkjazed @hhyvsstuff @readinmidnight @noona-neomu-yeppeo @cutehoons02 @robotinvenus @starfallia @nijisanjigenshin @kkamismom12 @kinamurariki @soobundle1009 @supershy3 @nodoubtily @vrikisn @jayjw16enxp @skzfangirl143 @0leelina0 @noriiluv @o2whre @nocturnebite @userprdx (taglist is still open, comment to be added.) final notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀i hope you guys enjoyed! part five will probably be posted on saturday or sunday! see you guys then!

©⠀mæwphoria⠀|⠀all works belong to me. strictly do not plagiarize, copy, translate, paraphrase, rewrite or repost my works on any other platforms. if it's inspiration gained from my work then it's appreciated and i wish you good luck with your own stories. thank you.

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271 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 1 year ago

Note

Okey, I hope this request makes sense.

But just imagine König with a shy, younger, insecure girlfriend who's inexperienced and chubby.

König adores every bit of her which obviously includes her body!!

Reader knows that, but she's still hesitant and shy, even though she wants to sit on his lap. She wants to lay on top off him when they cuddle. She wants him to manhandle her. She wants to ride him when they fuck for the first time.

But the cute, pathetic little doll is too scared too ask! Worried she'll do it wrong or that he'll realise that his exes were better or that he'll realise that he wants her to be smaller.

~🌟

As a chubby and shy girly myself, yessss🤭😏😮‍💨

König x Chubby!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, fingering, p in v, insecurity, chubby reader

1.7k word count

König saw you for the first time he was paroling around a college campus. You were wearing skinny jeans that hugged your wide hips, thick thighs, and apron belly. Your lavender top complimented your skin that looks so smooth, your large breast the bounce with ever step you take. He couldn’t focus on anything but the way you walked, so he decided to take a shot and approach you.

Ever since that your first date, König has been obsessed with you and you can’t understand why. He’s a wealthier older man, well established in life, his body 280lbs of solid muscles. It just doesn’t make sense- to you. To König your body is perfect the way it is.

You’ve been a chubby person your whole life and because of that you’ve never really dated. You’ve only ever had two boyfriends before and sexually have don’t nothing past missionary. With König, you want him to bend you over or throw you on the bed. You want to get on his cock and ride him until he cums. He’s strong enough to, yet you can’t find yourself asking for more. In a way you’re embarrassed to want this. What if he can’t lift you? What if he thinks you’re just too much and would rather have a smaller girlfriend? This is the reason you both haven’t had sex yet. He hasn’t even seen you naked yet, only the occasional boob pic.

König is well aware of your insecurities and he tries to reassure you as much as he can about how much he loves you. His hands always finding their way around your waist to rest on your belly, snaking down your hips to grab your thighs. He can never stop telling you how perfect you are. It’s hard to not compliment you when you walk around the house wearing tight little outfits that show off all of your curves.

Today was like any other day, you came over early to spend the day with König as soon as he got off his shift. He was tired and dragged you into the bedroom to nap. He held you close to his shirtless body, your fingers tracing the outline of his muscles. His hand caresses your side, squeezing at the fat around your hips.

You wanted to lay on top of him, but you’re too bashful to ask. You view yourself as too fat for him to relax with you like that. You look at his face as he lays with his eyes closed. His blonde hair growing shaggy and makes him look more youthful for his age.

König can feel you watching him as he opens his eyes slightly, he smiles one he sees your precious face looking up at him.

“What is it, Maus?”

“Nothing.” You giggle.

“Tell me,” He pulls you closer to him, pressing your body tightly against his.

“I was just admiring you.”

“Ja?” He begins to shift with your body in his arms, easily pulling you on top of him chest.

You can’t help but to smile big, yet something in you was telling you that you shouldn’t be enjoying this.

“König,” You giggle and try to move.

“Stay, I need you closer.”

“But I’m heavy,” You roll slightly off of him, one of your legs still draped over his body.

“You aren’t to me.” His hand glides up your thigh until he feels the warmth of your vagina through your biker shorts. He begins to rub your pussy through your pants.

You let out a soft moan as you bury your face into his arm.

“I love your body…let me love it please Maus.” König moves his hand and slips his hand down the front of your pants.

You move to stop him, then you stop yourself and let him. His hand squeezes your stomach twice before moving down to your pussy. His fingers rubbing your clit softly.

“You’re already wet?”

“I like being close to you,” You giggle embarrassed by how wet you are.

Now you’re completely naked and laid out on the bed, legs spread wide apart as König fingers your gummy cunt.

“Tell me what you want, Liebling.” König whispers into your ear.

Being shy, you don’t reply. You don’t feel secure enough to speak your desires without a heavy fear of rejection. You just lay there and enjoy the feeling of him fingering you, but then he withdraws his fingers. You turn your head to look at him.

“If you don’t tell me what you want, I won’t let you cum.”

You can feel your face get hot with embarrassment, feeling as if you were just put on the spot.

“You have to use your words or I won’t know.” He kisses your forehead.

“I-” you begin to speak but feel too ashamed.

“Keep going,” his hand moves up to your belly and squeezes gently.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have wants? Don’t you want me to fulfill you?”

“I do but,”

“No buts, tell me.” König sits up waiting to hear.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re talking to me, I’m your König. Don’t be embarrassed.”

You smile and let out a long sigh before sitting up and kneeling on the bed before him. His eyes drop to look at how beautiful your body looks in this position. He wants to get behind you and fuck you like this, holding your head back. He snaps out of it and looks back at your eyes.

“Okay, well,” you take a deep breath. “I want you to manhandle me, toss me around and be rough. And I want to ride you, like be on top.”

König began to smile big as he was excited for this. He’s been wanting to fuck you since the moment you met, but he was always respectful and moved at your pace.

“But I’m scared that my size will be too much for you.”

“Never, you’re perfect as you are. I can handle you.” König begins to lay down, his hand tugging at his balls.

“Put your legs here,” he taps by his hips.

You blush, “But I don’t know what to do that. What if I’m bad?”

“Impossible, your pussy is your pussy. I’ll be pleased to be in it no matter what.” He laughs.

A small chuckle escapes your lips as he says that. You crawl to him and swing your leg over his to straddle his body. His hands go to your thighs and caresses them gently.

“I’m nervous.” You giggle, König smiling and chuckling lightly.

“Don’t be. I’ve got you. Lean forward a little.”

You do and König reaches his arm around you to grasp his cock and hold it upright for you. He slides his other hand up your thigh to your hips as he begins to press your hips down. You follow his motion and sit back on to his cock.

You let out small moans as you feel his size begin to fill your tight cunt. You sit all the way down on him, feeling a slight pain because of his length but you love knowing his cock is too big for you. König lets out a pleased sigh once you take him in fully. Your tight cunt is so warm and welcoming, it was worth the wait.

“Do whatever feels natural to you,” He looks beside him and grabs pillows from your side of the bed to prop his head up more so he can have a better view of you.

Slowly, you begin to rock your hips back and forth, causing you to whimper slightly. König keeps his hands at his side so he can resist the urge to lift you and fuck you.

“Is this okay?” You ask nervously, stopping you motion until he responds.

“Absolutely. Das ist fantastisch. Don’t stop.” He moves his hands to your thighs and begins to caress them.

You rock your hips back and forth slightly faster this time, letting out pathetic little whimpers as he grasped your hips and began to move you, following your motion.

“You’re doing so well,” König moans, “try bouncing Liebing.”

You nod and move your legs so that it is easier to bounce. His hands go down under your ass as you lift up, he helps. You slam down on his cock making the both of you moan out loudly. A smile comes across König’s face as he feels your ass jiggle in his hands and he can see your breasts and belly bounce as well. He’s been dreaming about the moment for so long.

“Fuck!” You yell and it surprises König.

His usually meek girlfriend is starting to show off a wilder side and it excites him.

“There you go, you look so fucking sexy y/n.” König’s eyes travel all over your body as it moves.

Your breathing gets heavier as you feel a strong pressure building spreading over your body, each thrust becoming more euphoric as you drop your head back. König watches you closely and realizes that you’re about to orgasm. You change motion and begin to rock your hips back and forth again.

“Your cocks so fucking big!” You moan loudly as your hands go to his thighs and grind his dick further into your sopping wet cunt. You begin to cum as your body trembles and your pussy clenches around him.

König moves his hands off of you and lets you ride it out as he enjoys the show. Your breasts bouncing in his face as you as your tight pussy tries to milk his cock. Your beautiful eyes rolling back. He wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

“Ride my cock, use my cock like a fucking dildo. Fuck…” His voice cracks from pleasure as he reaches out and squeezes your breast with one hand as he grabs the bed sheets tightly with the other hand.

“Liebling, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum, cum in me.” You recklessly say.

König quickly moves his arms to your body and leans you forward. He readjusted his legs and he began to thrust in into you rapidly. Your ass rippling with every connection. You moan loudly as König breaths hard, eyes closed, as he focuses on his orgasm.

“Oh Gott!” His cock throbs, painting the inside of your walls with his sticky white cum.

Both of your bodies cover in sweat, König begins to kiss the side of you face and neck as both of you breath heavy and try to calm down.

“You were amazing Maus.”

You giggle and hide your face in your hands. He laughs and squeezes you tightly against his body. He is already ready for round two, ready to see your body in a different position.

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

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First, I just wanna say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 🎂🎊❤️ Second, I would like to request for your birthday event a Law🩺 x fem reader with the prompt, "What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?". Add as much smut as you want please 😜🫠🫣 (Also maybe for a birthday present for me too since it will be soon😁)

I'm soooo, so sorry this didn't come out in time of your birthday! 😭 I started it in time, but then didn't get to finish it. I set myself to finish this today, so here it is. I do hope you enjoy this one, I had fun with it! 😏

Source for pic

First 🔞

Word Count: 3851

Tags: fem!reader; first time; vaginal sex; fingering; inexperienced!Law; virgin!Law

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You showed your captain your intent to kiss him, but instead of kissing you back, he fled. Resigning yourself to a rejection hurt, but what if his reaction had nothing to do with rejection, and all to do with inexperience?

|Masterlist|

Divider by @cafekitsune

It had become sort of a ritual between the two of you. Law read while sitting at his desk - medical journals, scientific papers, or comic books - and you sat on a little couch in the corner of his office, out of his way, but still near him. A book in hand and a focused expression on your face - whether it was romance, adventure, horror or, sometimes, even one of Law’s precious medical books.

More often than not, the focused expression was only on your face because you were trying so hard not to get lost in your captain’s presence. Even just by sitting still, he commanded the room. He didn’t have to speak to own every silence, nor did he have to be watchful to own every shadow. This room was his, you were merely in it.

And that was extremely fascinating to you.

There had been times when you were bolder with your attention, actively closing the book you were perusing and just staring at him, deadpan. But he would never acknowledge you, even when you were sure he knew exactly what you were up to.

You didn’t care. You were too lost in the way his lips dipped with focus, or how his long, slim fingers intertwined when he was reviewing a passage. The way he deepened his frown when something was amiss, or how his eyebrows relaxed when something made sense. The way he ran his fingers through his hair or absentmindedly twirled his hat on his index finger.

You were fascinated. He was fascinating.

And you were at the tipping point. You needed this man, badly.

You had tried subtle ways of showing him you were interested: touching his arm, twirling your hair, giggling at everything he said - that had been a fun week! When Law decided to run a full check-up to figure out what the hell was wrong with you, you stopped your subtle efforts. Maybe you needed to be a bit more blunt. So you then tried to actively use lame pick-up lines and telling him outright how interested you were. All of it flew past his head and, instead, was picked up by Penguin and Shachi, who decided to make fun of you for it - that had been another fun week!

If you were anybody else, you would have given up by now, clearly getting the hint that he wasn’t interested in anything romantic. But you were stubborn to a fault, and the fact that your captain hadn’t fully rejected you was the deciding factor for your next move. Because if he didn’t have feelings for you, he wouldn’t put up with your presence in his office, right? He would’ve ‘shambles-ed’ you out of there in the blink of an eye.

So, this was a do-or-die situation. You were going all in.

The lights were always dimmed in his office, except for two lamps - one by your side, the other by his desk - so the ambiance was already intimate. You had put on some revealing clothes, making full use of your free time to shed the boiler suit since you weren’t ‘on the clock’, and you had downed an entire cup of chamomile tea for the nerves. This was happening.

Other than a slightly longer glance your way when you asked if you could join him - as you always did - Law didn’t show any signs of being hot and bothered by your skimpy choice of clothes. This was already a bust.

Huffing, you didn’t even sit on the couch. You took small steps towards his desk while slowly counting to ten in your head to keep your cool. Law’s brow rose as he saw you approach, but his eyes swiftly returned to his book. Two more steps, and you were by his side.

“Captain.” You murmured, trying to sound alluring and cursing at the wicked croak that left your lips.

Law lifted his gaze and turned his chair slightly to the side, so you used the opportunity to lean on his desk. He tilted his head, clearly curious as to what you were doing. You then leaned forward, lips inches away from his, and the strong scent of disinfectant and pine soothed you. It was his scent. “What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?” This time, your words came out in a sultry whisper, your breath kissing his lips in a soft promise.

Law locked eyes with you, something dark passing through them, and your breath hitched as he raised his hand to eye level. You prepared yourself for the surge of shock when he pressed his lips against yours, his hand already near your cheek… then he opened his lips and…

“Room. Shambles.”

And with a soft plop, you were sitting in your bed. No Law, no kiss, no confession, just you, in a time-out.

“What the fuck?”

-*-

You’d had half a mind to stomp into his office and let him know that what he had done was not acceptable, but you had let it slide. That was almost a week ago, and you still hadn’t spoken to Law since.

When you went by his office, he wasn’t there; when you went by the sick bay, he had just left; it seemed that every time you tried to enter a room he was in, he was suddenly gone. Almost as if he could disappear in the blink of an eye. Which he did. So you knew he was avoiding you.

At first, you felt slighted. A simmering rage burning beneath the surface since you had, after all, put all of your effort into seducing him, only to make a fool of yourself. You deserved an explanation!

But as time went by and he didn’t even make his presence known to you, your anger slowly turned into hurt and then to sorrow. It was bad enough that whatever you felt for Law wasn’t reciprocated, but it was even worse that he didn’t even want to see you to clear the air.

That was what stung the most.

So, you stopped trying. You stopped looking for him or trying to find him. You’d gotten the message loud and clear: Law wasn’t interested.

But what was even worse than that was that you actually missed his company. Even if he was silent most of the time.

-*-

You still read, but now you were doing it in your own room, actually reading and understanding the words on the pages in front of you instead of being unfocused and lost in your captain.

It was all so lonely.

Tonight, you were reading a boring medical journal. It reminded you of Law, so you even started to mutter some of the words in the book because that’s what he did sometimes when he was trying to memorise or grasp something, and it felt familiar. You were lying on your belly, the book held in front of your face as you leaned on your elbows, wearing the most bored and sad-puppy expression.

Until a familiar blue light enveloped you and, with a light tug on your stomach, you fell face-first - or book-first? - into your captain’s lap.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as you scurried up, trying to sit, still dazed at what had just happened.

“Captain?”

“I thought you were sitting down! I didn’t expect you to fall on me.”

“What?”

His ears and face were red as he helped you sit. Then, you took a look around and gasped. You had never been here before, this was his room.

“Is that a medical journal?” He had calmed down a bit and pointed at the book in your hands. Now, it was your time to blush.

“Yes.” You mumbled between your teeth. “Why am I here?” You huffed in exasperation. As much as you wanted to reconnect with Law, the feeling of rejection was still very fresh and aching against your chest.

“I… I brought you here.”

You stared at him, deadpan. Was he being serious or making a joke? With Law, it was hard to tell sometimes. But you didn’t say anything, and he continued with a bit more bravado this time.

“I brought you here to apologise for my behaviour this past week.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you raised your chin, trying to prove that you were unbothered by the situation. “Go on,” you urged.

“I was scared.”

“What?”

The great Surgeon of Death? Scared of you? Was he making up excuses? Did he not think you were strong enough to handle rejection?

“I–I like you! And… I’ve never…” Law blushed deeply, a crimson red hue spreading adorably from his nose to his cheeks and up to his ears. You held your breath as your lips parted in a surprised ‘o’.

“Kissed someone?” You coaxed softly.

Law sighed profoundly, his hand running over his face before he closed his eyes and decided to just spill it. “Not that. I’ve kissed people. I just never had intercourse and… well… you… I… damn it! I want to! With you!”

He seemed so awkwardly embarrassed by the whole situation that you did your best to suppress the sweet smile that threatened to escape your lips. He hadn’t rejected you because he didn’t care, he rejected you especially because he cared.

Tilting your head to the side you forced him to look into your eyes as you reached for his hand, tentatively entwining your fingers with his lithe ones, all previous anger forgotten after his sudden confession. “It’s okay, Captain. We don’t have to do anything.”

Law stared at your intertwined hands for a moment, and when his amber gaze returned to you, it was dark with desire. “But I want to do everything.” Your breath hitched as the grip of his hand increased. He tugged softly, pulling your body towards his, and you didn’t resist.

His lips hovered near yours, but you didn’t press them together like you wanted to, you were giving Law time for him to do this his own way. “What was it you said? What if I kissed you right now, would you stop me?”

Law’s raspy voice sent tingles down your spine, gathering indecently in your core. You leaned in closer, lips brushing ever so slightly with his while you shook your head. “Not only would I not stop you,” you placed your free hand on Law’s thigh, and he sucked in a breath. “I would also indulge you.”

With an unrestrained groan, Law used his free hand to cup your nape and pull you against his lips. His kiss did not seem inexperienced at all. Law pressed firmly, first, freeing the hand that was entwined with yours and placing it on your waist, bringing your body closer to his. Then he parted his lips and licked your lower one tentatively, asking permission to enter.

With a wanton moan, you melted into his embrace and into his kiss, lips parting and tongues meeting in a wet, messy dance.

It wasn’t enough.

Law pulled you even closer, so you straddled him, your knees supported against the mattress as your core frictioned against his length. With a gasp, you pulled back, neck arching as a ripple of pleasure coursed through you.

You felt Law hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then he moved, pressing his lips against your throat and laying open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. “Is this okay?” He questioned, a slight - barely there - tremble in his voice.

“Yes!” You breathed, your hand climbing to grip his hair as you threaded your fingers through its silkiness, something you’d been meaning to do for a while and never could. Law pulled you in for another kiss and you guided his hand below your shirt - you needed to feel him touch you.

His kiss faltered for the briefest of seconds before his hand climbed, and he cupped your breast. You rolled your hips against his, feeling his hard cock rub against your clit, robbing another shameless moan from your occupied lips.

Law parted the kiss with a heavy pant. “Fuck.” His hand found your nipple and he teased it very softly while his other hand rested on your thigh.

“Wait.” You murmured, and when he looked at you with panic in his eyes, you regretted your poor choice of words. “Just let me get this out of the way. Don’t stop what you’re doing.” Then you removed your pyjamas shirt, baring your upper body to him.

Law gulped, and his jaw clenched as his eyes devoured you.

“Like what you see, Captain?” You teased, trying to ease some tension so he could enjoy the experience and not be so focused on what he was doing right or wrong. When he nodded, you guided your hand to your free breast, your eyes never leaving his as he followed your movements. “Like this.” Then you showed him, rolling your nipple with your thumb and index finger, pinching slightly.

Law mimicked your movements with his hand, and you bit back a satisfied groan. You removed your hand from your breast so you could gain some grounding, placing them on the mattress and arching your back, rolling your hips again to feel the sweet friction.

He hesitated. You watched his calculating eyes consider possibilities before he leaned in and took your free nipple on his tongue. Your breathing became heavy as he sucked and nibbled, clearly enjoying the experience.

He stopped his ministrations to stare at you, and for the first time, he looked unguarded, relaxed, even though he was visibly anxious, it was more in anticipation, than in fear. “The books explained women’s pleasure, but nothing compares to the real thing.”

You looked at him through lidded eyes, feeling your core throb incessantly. “Books?”

Law grinned, then wrapped one arm around your waist and flipped you, so your back was against the bed. “I’ve been doing research this past week.” Research? On sex? You had to suppress a chortle, your captain never did anything by half. “Let me see if I assimilated the subject thoroughly.”

With shaky hands, Law removed the bottoms of your pyjamas and your panties, all the while cursing between his teeth. Then his big hands pressed on your thighs and he looked into your eyes, waiting for permission. You nodded, and he urged you to open your legs, which you happily did.

He became transfixed for a moment, watching your pussy leaking with desire until you spoke. “Captain! Are you just going to stare? Let me guide you.” You leaned on your elbows, ready to explain to him how to pleasure you so you could take him.

He smiled at you and shook his head softly. Then he removed his shirt and you gasped at his tattoos. You’d seen them, he was never shy about displaying them. But actually watching them right in front of your nose had your breath hitching again. When Law removed his spotted jeans, you couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in his briefs.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He mimicked your words, and you giggled. Then, he positioned himself between your legs, his hands climbing your thighs until they hovered over your pussy.

With shaky hands, Law ran two of his fingers through your slickened folds, a sharp exhale leaving his lips as he observed you with clinical precision. He parted them and gulped. “Your clitoris. It has more than eight thousand nerve endings.” You arched your back, waiting for his touch, but he was still analysing and you were already burning up. “And it’s not just external.” Law splayed his hand on your lower abdomen, almost as if he could see what was underneath without the use of his Devil Fruit.

Your breathing accelerated, and he continued. “Stimulation to the glans clitoris,” he used one finger to circle your nub tentatively, “activates the nerves, sending signals through the pudendal nerve straight to your brain.” He repeated the motion with his finger, and you moaned, throwing your head back. “Pleasurable signals.”

Clearly motivated by your reaction, Law alternated his gaze from your eyes to your core. “It’s sensitive to different kinds of stimuli, like friction,” Law rubbed your clit for a moment, and you bit your lower lip, hands gripping the sheets, “and pressure,” his fingers pressed harder while he changed the pace and direction, and you nearly lost it, pleasure already cresting, ready to snap. “If I stimulate it correctly, it should trigger deep pelvic contractions. Your heart rate increases, your pupils dilate, and pleasure will course through your body - an orgasm.”

“I–I’m coming, L–Law!” You cried out his name in abandon, arching your back and fisting the sheets. Law’s ‘lesson’ and his touch brought your climax out of nowhere, crashing unannounced with waves and waves of bliss.

Law seemed fascinated by your reaction, the faint blush still remained on his cheeks. As you recovered from your orgasm, your eyes opening slightly, you saw him grinning. “Fascinating.”

“Are you going to quiz me afterwards?” You teased, and he laughed.

“Maybe.” Then he leaned over your body and kissed you deeply, slotting himself in the middle of your legs while you let your hand explore his chest and abs. When your fingers reached the hem of his briefs, you pulled apart, looking into his eyes.

“You want to do this?” Law nodded, and you felt another slight shake of his hands. You helped him pull down his briefs, his lengthy cock springing free from its confines. Then you reached, touching him gently so he could understand how it felt to be touched by another person.

His breathing became ragged, and his eyes darkened further. So he lined his tip with your entrance and exhaled another shaky breath. “The muscular tissue in your vaginal canal is designed to expand for penetration.” Law gulped, swallowing hard and preparing himself for what was about to happen.

“After an orgasm, and because of our intense foreplay, you should be lubricated enough to accommodate me.” As if to prove a point, Law inserted two digits inside your hole, collecting slick and making you gasp. “It should facilitate–”

“Law, stop talking and start fucking me.” You breathed out, exasperated with all the teasing he was unwillingly causing you.

Law’s grin was barely there, but he nodded and pressed the tip of his cock against your glistening hole. Never averting your gaze, he pressed forward, letting out a rumbling groan, his brows scrunching up as his mouth parted slightly. “Fuck.”

His hands gripped your hips hard, as if that action alone could ground him to earth. “I–If I recall correctly - fuck - it’s beneficial if I move slowly at first.”

You arched into him, a pleasurable moan leaving your lips, chased by a mirthful chuckle. “Trafalgar Law, you have got to be the only man who gives an anatomy lesson while losing his virginity.”

He groaned in agreement while slowly pulling out of you, then he watched in amazement as by rolling his hips, his length sank further into you. Lost in pleasure, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper and clenching all around him.

Law gasped, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered his forehead, letting it touch yours. His breath came out in heavy pants. “Try not to do that again, sweetheart, unless you want to end this prematurely.”

Your heart swelled as you used your hands to push some strands of hair away from his eyes, feeling the sweat on his damp forehead.

“Law. Just enjoy it. Don’t overthink it.” You cupped his face so he could stare at you. “You’re supposed to feel it with your body, not analyse every step. Okay?”

He nodded, his gaze still focused on you. His hands slithered from your hips to your waist, pressing harder as he kept nodding. “Just feel it. Okay, I can do that.”

And he did. He rocked back again, then thrust slowly into you. Law bit hard into his lower lip, brows scrunching in deep concentration. The slow pace was driving you insane, but you didn’t want to demand more, you wanted him to explore the feeling at his own pace.

“Fuck, shit. You’re so warm and tight… fuck!” He panted hard, repeating the rolling motion as his hands gripped you harder. “Your pelvic floor is contracting, reacting to the stimulation and–”

“Yes, Captain! That’s what happens when a woman is aroused.” You grinned when he stared back into your eyes. “And you’re driving me insane.”

“The books didn’t– fuck…” He stopped his reasoning midway, taking a deep breath and finally thrusting a little harder, and a little faster. Your body responded immediately to that with a heavy moan. Law’s head fell forward as he nuzzled it against the crook of your neck, his voice coming out muffled. “I don’t think I can last much longer…”

You felt him slowing down again, clearly trying to make it last so he could pull an orgasm from you.

“Then don’t, Law. Let go.” You breathed into his ear, legs wrapping tightly around him to give him the confidence to finish it.

But he was still letting his mind take over, clearly reviewing every book he had ever read, trying to find ways to last longer or to prolong your pleasure. So you rolled your hips against his, making sure he thrust deeper and harder, pulling him with your legs against you, trying to make him get lost in the feeling.

“Fuck! Don’t do that unless you want–”

“To make you come? Desperately.” You teased with a slight chuckle. “Let go, Law. Just feel me.” You urged, tangling your fingers through his hair, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. He pulled back enough to stare into your eyes, and then something snapped in him, almost as if he had turned off the part of his brain that was restraining him.

His pace quickened, his thrusts became sloppier - desperate - while his breath came out in ragged, frantic pants. “Fuck–fuck!” You could feel him get lost in you, he was no longer overthinking, just feeling. The way his hands gripped you, the way he whispered your name between moans and curses, it sent another rush of pleasure through you and you clenched him hard.

And that was what undid him. Law stiffened, his hips jerking forward as he shut his eyes and let out a desperate groan, pleasure rippling through him. Then he collapsed forward, holding himself up by the elbows before he crushed you, letting his face bury against the crook of your neck again, warming your skin with his ragged breathing.

You held him, pulling him closer to you as he was still buried within your walls. For a moment, the only thing breaking the silence was both your gasps and heavy breaths as you tried to regain your ground. Then Law lifted his head slightly, a dazed expression on his face, which made you smirk.

“That was… wow.”

“Not bad for a first time, right, Captain?”

Law’s exhausted, satisfied chuckle as he let his head fall on your chest was all the answer you needed.

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @walmartmihawk

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